


In the Shadows

by scifishipper



Series: In the Shadows [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonding, Burns, Canonical Character Death, Disfigurement, Happy Ending, Jim and Spock are really so cute in this - trust me, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Nero Never Existed, Scars, Slow Build, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, rated m for dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accused of treason and stranded on Vulcan, Cadet Jim Kirk is offered a solution to his problems: bond with Ambassador Sarek's son, someone he has never met. When he finally meets his betrothed at the ceremony, the Vulcan's face is disfigured by cruel scars. Now, penniless and trapped, Jim finds himself committed to a reclusive stranger with a dark past. Has he sealed his fate forever or is there hope for the two of them to find love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Unconventional Courtship as a response to prompt [25\. The Veiled Bride](http://unconventionalcourtship.dreamwidth.org/401.html)
> 
> Thank you to Lanalucy for her wonderful beta! You are awesome!

Jim Kirk adjusted his collar, pulling at the stiff red fabric and wishing Vulcan wasn’t so damned hot. His insides were more like jelly than organs and he could really use a drink and a cool shower. Instead, he sat outside the Vulcan High Council chambers awaiting word on his petition for Vulcan citizenship.

After an interminable wait, the creaking doors of the chamber finally opened and several severe-looking Vulcans emerged, their steps quick and efficient. A moment later Ambassador Sarek walked out and turned in his direction. His face revealed no answer and Jim held his breath.

“Cadet Kirk,” the stoic Vulcan said as he approached. 

“Ambassador?” 

“After much discussion, your petition for Vulcan citizenship has been denied.”

Jim gasped. “Denied? Really?” Jim raked a hand over his face. “Oh, man. That’s not good.” He blinked several times at the Ambassador as his mind raced. “What are my options? Can I appeal?” 

“Negative. The Council’s decision is final.”

“But I helped you…I mean the Vulcans. I don’t understand.” Jim had known the chances were slim, but it had been his only hope.

“The High Council declared it illogical to protect a Terran at this time of greatest distrust with your people—”

“—But I helped them discover Marcus’s plans. Without me you wouldn’t even know,” Jim interrupted, desperation sharpening his words. He’d risked his life to hand-deliver Admiral Marcus’s secret plans to remove the Vulcans from the Federation so he could align with the Romulans.

“I agree with you, Jim, but my arguments did not sway the council. The matter of your petition is closed,” Sarek stated firmly.

“No, I know. I mean I know you tried.” Jim looked earnestly at Sarek and held out his hand, forgetting for a moment the Vulcan dislike of handshaking. When Sarek did not move, Jim rolled his hand into a ball and tucked it against his side once more. “I mean, thank you, sir. I knew it was a long shot. I guess…I just thought they’d be grateful or something. I don’t know…” Jim glanced around trying to think of a way to get off planet and somehow stay under Starfleet’s radar. 

“Gratitude is a reasonable expectation, but not enough in this instance.” 

“Right,” he answered, feeling a little stunned at both the Vulcans and his own naivete. He’d hoped much more than he should have. 

He scratched his head. “Uh, okay, so what happens now? Are they going to honor the arrest warrant?”

“Given their decision to stay in the Federation, they must honor the warrant. Many Vulcans desire to see Starfleet and the Terran Federation executives held to task for their betrayal. It has been suggested that your trial on charges of treason will provide a public forum to disclose Admiral Marcus’s actions.”

“But that won’t happen!” Jim protested. “They’ll bury it. Bury me! Did you tell them that?” He turned away from Sarek and started to pace. “Marcus wants me dead. I’ll never make it to trial. He’ll have me killed. You know this, right?” Jim asked spinning back to face Sarek.

“It is statistically likely,” Sarek said, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What am I going to do?” Jim paced again, bits of an escape plan already falling into place. If he could get a ship, he could get off planet. Maybe he could join up with a mercenary group, find a way out of the Alpha quadrant and onto some backwater planet until it all died down. Or maybe he could get reconstructive surgery—

“Might I suggest a possible solution?” Sarek said, interrupting his mad train of thoughts. 

“Yes! Anything. Do you have a ship I can use to get off planet? You must have connections somewhere.” 

“I do have a personal shuttle craft, Jim, but I was considering a different, although possibly less desirable, solution.”

“No way, man. I am all ears,” Jim answered, focusing his attention on the Ambassador.

After a longer than expected pause, Sarek spoke, “You could agree to bond with my son.”

~*~

Three days later, Jim once more found himself waiting for Ambassador Sarek, albeit under vastly different circumstances. His soon-to-be-bondmate was due to arrive for what Jim could only call a ‘shotgun wedding’.

Instead of his cadet reds, Jim was sweating under two layers of Vulcan robes, surprisingly cooler than his now-useless uniform. His bondmate, a word that filled him with anxiety, was due to arrive for the ceremony shortly. Jim had not met Spock, but he had heard much about him from both Ambassador Sarek and his aide, T’Shava. The Vulcan woman had been less than forthright about Spock’s personality, but her arrogance as she described his “half-breed” status had done nothing but fortify Jim’s willingness to bond with the so-called “outcast” Vulcan. Being an outcast was something he understood.

Commotion at the rear entrance to the cavern drew Jim’s attention. Through it came the Vulcan priestess, and two male Vulcans carrying a heavy gong. The priestess was a woman of significant height and age with an ornate hairstyle swept up and pinned with two silver adornments. Her bronze-trimmed robes swirled around her feet as she strode towards the small dais at the front of the chamber.

“Mr. Kirk. Thy _sa-kugalsu_ shall appear shortly. I will have thy thoughts…” The Vulcan extended her hand toward Jim’s face and he held his breath. Sarek had explained the necessity of a light meld to ascertain Jim’s willingness and compatibility with Spock. 

Her fingers were cool as they pressed against his cheek and forehead, but other than a light pressure in his mind, he could not discern her presence.

She stepped back abruptly. “I declare thee willing and compatible. Spock will enter.” She glanced towards the back of the room and Jim heard the shuffling of feet growing near. He didn’t move a muscle, refusing to show any emotion at all in response. He did this because he must, he told himself, and shoved down all the trepidation he felt.

A moment later, he sensed a presence at his side and glanced over, briefly taking in the proud profile of he-who-would-be-his-husband. _Huh,_ he thought with mild surprise, _he’s pretty hot._ He suppressed a grin and squeezed his hands together behind his back. What dread he felt seemed to retreat in the face of burgeoning excitement.

The priestess spoke. “What thou shalt undertake comes down from the time of the beginning, without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. _Kah-if-farr_.”

The priestess stepped aside and Spock moved forward, taking the wide mallet hanging next to the gong. His robes were patterned with ornate designs embroidered with black on heavy rust-colored fabric. He pulled his arm back and struck the gong three times, sending vibrations through the open-air chamber and making Jim shiver. This was so not what he had ever expected to do in his life.

He watched carefully as Spock replaced the gong and paused, seeming to draw a breath before turning around. Jim’s gaze was drawn to his face and his breath stopped, body stiffening in shock. The left side of Spock’s face was deeply scarred, a craggy patchwork of greenish-white burn scars that spread from his jaw to his hairline, around a partially closed eyelid. Some horror had befallen this Vulcan, and for some unfathomable reason, scars remained despite easy to find medical tech that would take them away. 

Spock’s dark eyes glared back at Jim as if daring him to react. Jim, with all of his strength, refused to do so, and held the Vulcan’s eyes until Spock finally spoke. “I choose thee, James Tiberius Kirk.” Jim watched the Vulcan speak, his mouth uneven as it moved, skin taut with the lacework of burn scars.

“I accept thee, S’chn T’Gai Spock,” Jim replied, stumbling over the difficult pronunciation despite his repeated practice. 

Stiffly, Spock stepped off the dais and returned to Jim’s side. The priestess reached for both of them, splaying her fingers once more on their faces. After a moment, Jim felt the pressure of the meld, a different sensation than before but not unpleasant. It remained when the priestess stepped back and Jim surmised it was the presence of their marriage bond, the _kah’ka_ that Sarek had described to him. 

“By the blessing of Sarek, the _kal’i’farr_ is complete. _Dif-tor heh smusma,_ ” the priestess said and offered the _ta’al_. Jim raised his hand to return it. Spock, he noticed, did the same and the priestess left them, with her attendants following closely behind. 

Jim heaved a breath and turned to face his new husband, a smile ready on his face. As he turned, Spock also turned, giving Jim his back and speeding away. Jim gaped in surprise.

Behind him, he heard the familiar voice of Ambassador Sarek. “Jim. I apologize for my son’s behavior. Despite his willingness to complete the bonding, he rarely appears in public and cannot tolerate it. I will escort you to your new dwelling.” Sarek extended a robed arm and Jim walked ahead of him, too stunned to speak. 

_What in the world had he gotten himself into?_

~*~

Jim followed Sarek down a narrow set of stairs and out into the open air. It was midday and Jim shielded his eyes against the sun. “Man, I don’t know how I am going to get used to this,” he said, panting slightly. He had been warned of the atmospheric differences between Earth and Vulcan, but had not experienced much discomfort until now. 

“I have requested that your belongings be sent to my son’s home. I assume that you have enough tri-ox compound to last for several more days?” Sarek asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jim answered, feeling slightly annoyed at Sarek. He knew the Vulcan had helped him out of a jam but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d also helped Sarek in a way he did not fully understand. As Jim was figuring out what to ask, Sarek seemed to anticipate him.

“I assume that you have many questions.”

“Yeah. You could say that. I thought I’d at least get to talk to him. I mean, I’m grateful for your help and I feel safe for the first time in weeks, but…” He gave Sarek a sidelong glance which Sarek met with a cool gaze. 

“My son has always been complicated, but trust me when I tell you that he is a Vulcan of the highest moral character and intellect. His brilliance shines more brightly than most, but his stubbornness impedes fulfillment of his destiny.”

“What happened to him?” Jim finally asked, needing to be direct.

“That is not my story to tell, Jim. In time, as Spock grows comfortable with you, I trust you will learn all you need to know.”

“Uh, okay. How long do you think that will that take?” Jim nodded to a passing Vulcan who looked askance at him. 

“I have been notoriously poor at predicting my son’s behavior, but I encourage you to be yourself, Jim. What I have observed about you indicates to me that your presence in Spock’s life will be a benefit. Evidence indicates that he will be a devoted bondmate...after a time.” He glanced at Jim and turned a corner to travel down a cactus-lined path. “I advise patience and persistence.”

“Hmm. Okay, but are you sure he wants this?”

“Spock cannot be forced to do anything he does not desire to do. He is aware of your actions for Vulcan and of your strong character and commitment to justice. He has made a wise decision. His opportunities for bonding have been nonexistent since…his disfigurement.”

“Yeah, I’m sure his attitude was no help,” Jim said and then covered his mouth, eyes going wide at Sarek. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. My mouth gets the better of me.” He looked as Sarek who merely glanced at him with what Jim could swear was a smirk.

Sarek stopped in front of a stone gate. “It matters not. We have arrived. I thank you for your service to the Vulcan people, but I must take my leave. I depart for Terra in the morning. Please contact my assistant, T’Shava, should you require anything that Spock cannot provide.” 

“Thanks, Ambassador. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Jim said, ignoring a sinking feeling in his stomach. He really had no idea how things would be.

“You may call me _sa’mekh_ or Sarek, whichever you prefer.” 

“Ah, okay. Thank you, Sarek. Uh, _sa’mekh_.” Jim laughed. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Indeed,” the Vulcan answered and raised his hand in the _ta’al_. “I wish you long life.”

“You, too, Sarek. Thanks for everything.” The Vulcan nodded at Jim’s words and departed, leaving him standing alone at the gate staring at the winding path ahead of him.

Jim took a moment and a breath, and chuckled at his own fear. He’d faced Marcus and had won — how in the world could a grumpy new husband be worse than that?

~*~

Jim followed the stone path as it wrapped around and down ten or so steps to an arched entryway. He paused, raising up his hand, wondering if he should knock. After a second, he just shrugged, figuring it was his house now, too, and tried the heavy metal lever which clicked and offered him entrance.

He stepped inside and took a deep breath of the much cooler air. His lungs were taxed from the walk and he wiped sweat away from his brow. The pale stone walls of the entry vestibule gave way to a larger room with high ceilings and a bank of windows facing a mountain view. As Jim approached the windows, he saw the paved stone of a wide veranda and several dark wood chairs with cushions and two square tables. Numerous varieties of cacti were arranged gracefully amid the furniture. A large yellow blossom emerged from the thickest cactus, outshining the rest in its beauty. 

Jim continued his exploration of the house, stepping through an archway and into a wide hall with several open doors. He walked softly down the hall, glancing first into what appeared to be a library and then continuing on to the next. He stopped short to see the close-cropped hair of a man he assumed to be Spock facing away from him sitting at a desk.

Jim cleared his throat. “Hi, Spock. I, uh, let myself in. I hope that’s okay.” 

“Greetings, James,” Spock said, turning his head slightly. Jim saw the curve of his cheek and the delicate green curve of his ear. “You are most welcome. Currently, I am in remote discussion with a group of students and cannot attend to you. Your belongings are in the bedroom at the end of the hall. Refreshments are down the stairs in the kitchen. If it pleases you, I shall see you for dinner at eighteen-hundred hours.” Spock’s voice was clipped and Jim understood that it didn’t actually matter if it pleased him or not.

“Yeah, sure. I’m exhausted anyway. I’ll, uh, see you later.” Jim paused, feeling supremely awkward, then just shook his head and took a breath, recalling Sarek’s words, _Patience and persistence._ He could do that.

There was only one room at the end of the hall and he stepped inside, eyes scanning the dark wood and floor-to-ceiling windows with a different view from those in the great hall. Jim moved closer and looked down to see a sharp precipice below and a rocky valley spreading out and gradually building up into a peak opposite the house. The jagged rocks were a deep orange, struck through with sharp lines of brown and black. It was starkly beautiful and intimidating in a way that the Vulcan landscape often appeared. So bare and severe, yet breathtaking in its vast proportions.

His one small bag sat on an ornately carved wooden stool near one of the windows. He opened it and pulled out a hypo, jamming it against his neck and pressing the lever. After a few seconds, he felt his breath ease and his tiredness begin to fade. “Whew. That’s much better.”

He laid the hypo on a dresser against the far wall and opened a drawer expecting it to be empty. He blinked and closed the drawer sharply. He moved to the other end of the nine-drawer piece and opened a different one, relieved to find it bare. He unpacked his few belongings and shoved them inside. He tucked his bag in another empty drawer below it. Curious, he opened all of the other drawers, finding them half-full of clothing and it slowly became clear to him that he was in the wrong room. 

Jim stepped back and swallowed hard, leaving the room and moving back down the hall. He pushed open the next door, expecting it to be his room, but it was a large washroom with a deep stone tub, sink and toilet. He tried the next door and found it to be a closet. He swallowed again, unable to believe that Spock expected him to share his room. Did he? Had Jim misunderstood Spock’s instructions? 

Confused and wary, Jim moved around the main floor, passing Spock’s office once more, this time seeing the door closed. He continued past the next room, the small library (that definitely did not have a bed). The great hall with its ornate sofas and chairs also had no bed. The entryway had a small closet as well, but no more rooms. 

Jim looked around. “Ah, the kitchen,” he said to himself, remembering Spock’s words. He glanced around the great room to see stairs opposite the bank of windows and he sped down them, expecting to see another hallway and his room below. He found instead a sizable dining area connected to an open-plan kitchen with a stone hearth in one corner. Smaller windows lined the dining room and kitchen, showing the same mountainous view as the great room but from an offset angle. Jim explored the downstairs but found only a pantry and a small lavatory. 

With nowhere left to explore, Jim got a glass of water and sat on a stool next to the center island. He traced the edge of his glass and stared out the window. His mind tumbled with the previous few weeks, filled with fear, excitement, worry, and one hope after another dashed. He had been expelled from the Academy, reviled in the press, and separated from the few belongings he had managed to accumulate during his time in San Francisco. He’d had nothing special, but his displacement was starting to wear on him and the idea of living in this house, on this planet, with a man who seemed to hate him…well, it didn’t exactly fill him with eagerness about his future.

After a few minutes of thinking, Jim huffed. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Kirk,” he scolded. “You’re not dead.” 

Jim shook himself, drank the rest of the water and filled it again. He poked around the cupboards and found some crackers to snack on. Some pale pink fruit was in a bowl and he gave it a sniff. His fruit allergies were unpredictable, so he thought it better to wait until he had a hypo on hand. He ate more crackers, drank the rest of the water, and decided that what he really needed was a nap. He hadn’t slept well since the High Council rejected his initial petition, and his tired crankiness now wasn’t going to help him win favor with his new husband. 

Quietly, Jim ascended the stairs and made his way back to the bedroom he was apparently going to share with Spock. He stripped off his robes and hung them in the closet, finding a bare section which had obviously been reserved for him. For all of his worry, it did seem like Spock was prepared for him…whatever that would mean.

Jim pulled back the heavy gray coverlet and sheets and slid into the bed clad only in his boxer briefs. The crisp sheets enveloped him, and within a few minutes, he was sound asleep.

~*~

Jim’s dreams were filled with the heavy weight of breaking atmosphere, fiery battles among the stars, and a wizened Vulcan face smiling softly at him. He awoke with a start as someone squeezed his shoulder.

He blinked his eyes to see Spock against the backdrop of the waning afternoon sun in the windows. His face was in shadow and Jim could not make out his expression.

“It appears you were quite tired. Dinner will commence in fifteen minutes. I have been apprised of your allergies and hope our meal will be satisfactory.” Spock stepped back and away before Jim could respond, leaving the swish of his robes in his wake. 

With a deep breath, Jim rubbed his face. He flung off the blankets and padded toward the washroom. He hadn’t noticed a shower, but he desperately hoped for something to help him feel clean. After a short search, he found a small sonic shower tucked behind a wall. He crowed happily, glad to know he would soon smell a lot less terrible.

At the end of his shower, he threw some water on his face, just to feel refreshed, and rinsed his mouth. As he searched for a towel, he found a shelf in the closet laid bare for him and he felt a smile creep across his face. He remembered the other thing Sarek had told him, that Spock would be _a devoted bondmate_ , a trait that Jim hoped he was beginning to see. 

Now if only he could have a conversation with the Vulcan—then he’d be getting somewhere.

Jim returned to the room with the towel draped around his waist. He opened his drawer and pulled out a pair of loose-fitting dark pants and a plain gray t-shirt. It wasn’t as nice as his marriage robes, of course, but he expected he would not be wearing those again. As he pulled on his clothes, he made a mental note to ask Spock about going into town to buy more clothes and a few other things he’d need. 

Jim checked his appearance once more in the washroom mirror and made his way downstairs, pausing to glance into Spock’s office, seeing neatly stacked books and papers arranged on his desk. It had a warmer feel than the rest of the house and Jim realized that this room had a somewhat feminine touch, if he could call it that. Delicately styled furniture and more natural fabrics than the heavily dyed curtains and thick wooden headboard and dresser in the bedroom. The desk, in particular, reminded him of the intricately carved stool near the windows overlooking the rocky valley. Jim took it all in, cataloging things to talk to Spock about if conversation (when conversation) went dry.

With his heart hammering in his chest, Jim started down the steps, arranging his face into a pleasant smile. Halfway down, he could smell something delicious.

“What is that?” He asked, hopping off the last step. “That smells amazing.” 

Spock had his back turned facing the stove. “It is called _pre tarmeeli_ , a vegetable dish with spices. One that my mother described as similar to Terran curry. You are familiar?” Spock’s tone was pleasant and Jim felt hope spark in his chest.

“Yeah, sure. I love curries.” Jim paused, watching Spock’s back as he stirred the contents of a pot. “So, your mother was human?” he asked.

“Yes,” Spock said. “Would you like a beverage? I can offer water, tea, and a mildly sweet drink flavored with _birkeen_.”

“Uh, I’ll stick to water right now. I need to rehydrate myself. I’m not used to the climate yet.” 

“The adjustment could take some time,” Spock said, still turned away from Jim. 

“So, I’ll just get that water. Can you hand me a glass?” Jim moved around the center island and approached Spock who took down a glass and handed it to Jim. He was really very good at hiding his face, and Jim just went with it, hoping to build on the pleasantness of the few sentences they had exchanged.

Jim filled the water from a pitcher on the counter and took a drink. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked around, noticing the table set for two, one at either end of the eight-person table. At the center of the table, an ornate tray of small cacti, some flowering, and many of varied shape and style. “You have a lot of cactus plants…more than I’ve seen anywhere.”

“Indeed. In addition to her work in linguistics, my mother was a gifted horticulturist. Many of the plants you will see once belonged to her or are offspring from her collection. I am sure you noticed the vegetation at my father’s house.”

“No, actually. I stayed in a small dormitory near the High Council. It seemed easier to go back and forth and close enough that I didn’t need a guide. Is your father’s house like to this one?”

“No. It is quite large, with many rooms used for both living and entertaining guests. His position as an ambassador required many parties and meetings, and at one time, he employed a staff of three to tend to the house, guests, and grounds.”

“Wow. Cool. He seems like a great guy. I mean, really skilled at his job. Must have been cool to grow up with all those different races and aliens around.”

“In many aspects, I suppose one could consider it ‘cool’.” Spock said, and turned finally to face Jim, his hands carrying a wide tray with an array of foods. He resolutely avoided eye contact with Jim, simply moving towards him and showing the unmarred side of his face as he passed. Jim watched with a sidelong gaze, questions filling his mind until he resolutely pushed them away. His curiosity would get him into trouble if he wasn’t careful.

Spock placed the tray on the table and motioned Jim to sit. They faced each other and Spock’s face fell into shadow, another clever ploy to avoid view. Jim frowned, feeling already frustrated by Spock’s assumptions that he’d judge him or even care. Really, he just made himself more fascinating by hiding. But then again, it probably wasn’t for Jim to say. He really had no idea what he’d have done in a similar situation.

“Please help yourself, James.” Spock said, reaching for a spoon. Jim did the same and filled his plate with the delicious looking food.

“Jim. Call me Jim. Only my superiors and my teachers called me James.” He smiled at Spock, but the Vulcan avoided his gaze. 

“As you wish,” he responded, spooning food onto his plate and breaking off bread.

“I have provided you with Terran utensils. My father had a variety of eating instruments in his house and offered them for your use.”

“Thank you, Spock. That was very thoughtful. I am fine with chopsticks. But thank you.” Jim picked up his fork and pulled some of the spicy vegetables into his mouth. 

“This is really good. Where did you learn to cook?” Jim asked.

“Living alone has forced me to learn many things,” Spock answered in a tight voice, causing Jim to wonder what else he had been ‘forced’ to learn. Jim’s chest grew tight and he stared at Spock, trying to see his expression in the dim light. 

“You don’t have to hide, you know,” Jim said, and immediately regretted it. Spock stiffened, his chopsticks freezing halfway to his mouth. He watched as the Vulcan slowly lowered his hand and dropped the utensils onto his plate. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. My mouth. I just say things sometimes. I’ve got a terrible filter. I didn’t mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable, I’m just…” Jim’s face flushed hot. “Look, I’ll just say this and get it out there because I don’t do subtle very well. I don’t care about the scars. I mean, I saw them, I know they’re there, but I’m not repulsed or weirded out or whatever you think I am. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life not getting to see my husband.”

Spock shoved his chair back and stood. “If you will excuse me. I have matters to attend to. Please finish your meal and I will clean up after you are done.” He folded his napkin carefully and laid it on the table. Jim watched Spock move away, refusing to look at him. He was not sure what to do, how to fix it, why he was such a complete asshole sometimes.

“Spock, please don’t go. I swear, I am not this much of a jerk. Really. I mean sometimes, but I don’t mean anything by it. God, I am so stupid.” Jim bit his lip, willing his mouth to just stop talking. 

Spock did pause, glancing briefly at Jim, face blank. “I accept your apology, but I am afraid I have lost my appetite. I shall find you later.” By the time Jim’s mouth moved to speak, Spock had disappeared up the steps.

Jim exhaled loudly and rubbed hard at his face. Slouching down in his seat, he poked violently at his food. _Way to go, Jimbo._

~*~

Jim forced down a couple more bites of food and started trying to clean up. He had no idea what habits Spock had or if he’d put things away correctly, but he did the best he could. He nursed a sour attitude with lots of self-flagellation and some brief questioning about the wisdom of having his tongue removed. 

Jim’s movements were slow as he loaded plates and bowls into the sonic dishwasher. His feelings, he realized, were about much more than just Spock. Sure, he’d screwed up, but what really struck him was the hollow feeling in his chest after he’d left. He’d heard amazing things about Vulcan bonding, and maybe a small part of him had hoped, really hoped despite his better (questionable) judgment that the bond with Spock might be amazing. Really, if he were being honest with himself, it was that promise that made the decision for him. Sure, he wanted to stay alive, but he trusted himself and his abilities well enough to know that he’d have found a way out of Alpha quadrant and would have stayed alive on his wits and charm. He always had. 

The bond though, the _potential_ of it, had seduced him. So much so that it had made him naive enough to believe that maybe Spock felt the same. From everything Jim had heard, Spock had been isolated for a long time, and maybe, just maybe, he was lonely, too. 

Fuck. He was a moron. Why would a Vulcan want to get hitched to an impulsive, loudmouthed, insensitive traitor? 

Fuck.

Finished with cleaning, Jim pounded his fists lightly on the counter, uncertain how to proceed. With a quick glance around the kitchen, flicked off the lights and started up the stairs towards the great room. As he emerged, he saw the last tendrils of the Vulcan sun setting over the mountains. Pale orange seeped into violet, spreading across the sky in a vibrant panorama of dramatic color. He paused, taking in the view and sensed hope expanding once more in his chest. He had to let go of his expectations, try to move slowly. This was a different species, for fuck’s sake and he was barging in like he owned the place. Well, he could do it differently…right?

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, Jim took a breath and headed towards Spock’s office. 

He found the room dark except for a small lamp illuminating a botanical print in the corner. Jim checked the other rooms and the bedroom but did not find Spock anywhere. _Figures,_ he mused, _I’d probably leave, too._

With a sigh, Jim stared out the bedroom windows as the stars emerged to replace the sun. He’d try again in the morning, figure out some way to connect to Spock. His shoulders sagged as he stripped off his clothes and slipped once more between the cool sheets. He had no idea where Spock was or if he’d be sleeping here, too, but he didn’t know what else to do. 

~*~

Sometime deep into the night, Jim sensed a warm body pressed against him. His mind cleared slowly as he became aware of the soft, warm breath on his neck. With surprise, Jim registered his husband sleeping next to him, his chest hot against his back, arm draped casually around his waist. He blinked his eyes several times just to make sure he was not dreaming. 

His wakefulness must have alerted the Vulcan’s sensitive telepathy and Jim sensed Spock’s body stiffen. A moment later, Spock rolled away, leaving Jim feeling cold and weirdly bereft. Jim’s mind spun, wondering what had just happened… had Spock intentionally touched him or was it accidental. Sleep snuggling? Was that a thing? What did it mean? 

Jim felt very much out of his element here. Quick thinking worked well in combat exercises and in a class full of naive Starfleet cadets, but this…this intimacy. Jim was pretty dumb when it came to slowing down and figuring out the right thing to do. He went through life trusting his gut and for the most part, it had saved him. Now, though, he felt small and uncertain, rejection looming large in his mind. He didn’t know Spock at all. He was obviously fragile and Jim was like a wrecking ball. Damn it to hell anyway.

Jim lay frozen, lost in his thoughts when Spock slid off the bed and went to stand in front of the window. Vulcan had no moon, but his silhouette was outlined in starlight from the clear Vulcan sky. Jim sat up against the pillows and watched him, his straight, unmoving posture speaking volumes. 

After a few moments, Spock spoke quietly, obviously aware that Jim was awake. “I traveled to Terra six years ago with my mother and father. We visited several cities around the world, but it was the moon that most captivated me. Since that time, I have often wished to see a Vulcan moon.”

Jim paused, planning his words carefully. “It’s a popular subject on Earth. Songs, poems, movies…it’s always pretty romanticized. I think I probably take it for granted, wanting for so long to travel away from Earth and explore uncharted galaxies. I always assumed that other moons were much more interesting, ya know?” 

“There is a saying, is there not, in Standard, about greener grass?” Spock asked.

“Yeah. We say, ‘the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence’. Meaning that we always think what we don’t have is better than what we already have.”

“Yes. That is it. Sometimes, I wonder if it is true. If sometimes, the grass is greener on the other side.”

“I suppose sometimes it is. Sometimes things suck so bad where you are that anything has to be better,” Jim said, thinking of the farmhouse in Iowa and Frank’s endless abuse. It’s all been better than that.

“Yes. I find that to be true, as well.” Spock said slowly, his voice pensive. 

Jim didn’t answer, pleased at the gentle nature of the conversation. It seemed that Spock had accepted his apology, and if he could just stay quiet, maybe it could last.

“Were you speaking the truth this evening?” Spock asked a few moments later, his voice barely audible, the silhouette of his body seeming to turn towards Jim. “About my appearance?”

Jim paused, afraid to say the wrong thing again about this most sensitive of topics. “Yes,” he said carefully. “I meant it. I—” Jim stopped himself from saying more.

Spock didn’t answer, but turned back to the window. Jim, feeling emboldened, flipped away the covers and padded to stand next to Spock. 

“You’re a touch telepath, right?” He asked.

“Yes, as all Vulcans are.” He glanced at Jim, the whites of his eyes visible in the dim light.

“Then know how I feel,” Jim said, and slid his hand into Spock’s, gripping it tightly. “Read my thoughts, Spock.”

Jim held his breath for an eternal moment until Spock pressed his fingers against his hand. He thought as loudly as he could, calling up his hopes, his sadness about Spock and his life, the curious circumstances that kept him disfigured when new skin could be easily regenerated. 

He heard Spock inhale before he spoke. “I sense your honesty...and curiosity. But also fear, Jim. A fear I myself share. As half-human, my mother encouraged me to understand my feelings even if I could not show them among my fellow Vulcans. I must acknowledge my deep fear that this bonding would trap us both. That my father was somehow wrong…that you—”

“No. It doesn’t have to be that way. I wanted it, Spock. For more than the Vulcan citizenship. The bonds of your people are legendary…profound even. We have nothing so certain or sure among humans.” Jim turned and faced Spock, making out the faint marks on his skin. He wanted to touch him, feel the scars, let Spock know it didn’t matter, but he kept his free hand tightly at his side. 

Spock eased his fingers out of Jim’s. “My mother spoke of the difficulty of being bonded to a Vulcan. Not unkindly, but her human nature, full of laughter and tears, was out of place on this world. I sensed at times that she was unhappy…” Spock let his head drop and Jim felt the ache in his chest once more. 

“I’m not her, Spock. You’re not your dad. Maybe it can be different…” Jim didn’t know what else to say. 

“We shall see,” Spock said with a quick inhale. 

After an awkward moment, Jim spoke. “I’m going to go back to bed. I hope…well, let’s see how tomorrow goes. One day at a time, okay?”

“Indeed,” Spock said, but not unkindly. 

Without commotion, Jim eased back into the bed and lay staring at Spock’s shape in the window. After a few minutes, Spock climbed back into the bed and faced the wall. Neither slept for a long time.

~*~

_Five Years Earlier_

_Amanda sat at her writing desk, tapping slowly on a PADD as she scanned her notes from the most recent transplants. The corner of her PADD flashed, indicating a message awaiting her. She resolutely ignored it and finished the entries, cross-referencing them with the corresponding cacti in her database. This month’s drier winds would challenge the flowering cycle of at least three species that had shown some promise._

_Laying the device on the desk, she pushed back and glanced out the window at the setting sun. The room was cool despite the shimmering red light spilling across the pale stones of her office. She took a breath and smoothed her hair — Sarek would arrive soon with Spock for dinner. She frowned, feeling a heaviness in her breast. She’d been avoiding Sarek for several weeks, but it was Spock who had finally insisted on seeing her._

_With slow movements, Amanda worked in the kitchen to finish preparations for Spock’s favorite meal. Her fingers felt numb and disconnected from her body as she worked. Her entire existence felt separate from the reality of her life, as if she were watching herself from afar._

_An hour later, with the table set for three, Amanda donned a pale blue robe which highlighted the deep auburn of her hair. She’d lost weight, she thought, as she twisted her hair into a high Vulcan knot in the mirror. Her cheekbones, more pronounced with her weight loss, highlighted her wide blue eyes. She’d been called beautiful in her youth, but here on Vulcan, she was simply seen as an oddity — a being to be stared at in the market or ignored as inferior to other women. During the early days of her marriage to Sarek, she welcomed that attention, subverting it by laughing loudly with a wide open smile or sticking out her tongue — anything to make the reserved Vulcans show an inkling of emotion. It had kept her amused among a people who thought nothing of her._

_The chime of the door pulled Amanda out of her thoughts and she let her family into the great room._

_“Mother,” Spock said. “I wish you greetings.” He moved stiffly out of the way as Sarek entered._

_“My wife,” Sarek said formally. “Greetings. I trust you are well?”_

_“Come in. I have our meal prepared. It is quite dry today, is it not?” she asked, unwilling to answer questions about her welfare._

_“Indeed,” Spock answered and Amanda ignored the way his perceptive eyes lingered on her face. “You have lost weight, mother. Are you well?”_

_Amanda faked a kind smile. “The dry season seems to steal my appetite, Spock. I am sure it is the heat.”_

_“Yes, mother. May I inquire as to your new plantings?” Her son asked, glancing towards the terrace._

_“They are struggling. The dry season has come early this year. I expected a bloom before the winds began.”_

_“The_ nim-tel-aki _is indeed thirty-one days earlier than last year. I trust the native species are adapting well?” Spock said._

_“Yes, they are doing quite beautifully, as are the hybrids. The small_ Coryphantha vivipara _have struggled for the last year and I expect they will not make it.”_

_“Have you considered moving them to front of the house, to enjoy the captured shade of the rock face?”_

_“I moved two of them, yes, but they did not respond well. I shall leave the rest on the terrace and add additional nutrients at the roots.”_

_“As you see fit, mother. You are the expert.” Spock stated without inflection._

_“Yes. How are you, Spock? Have you completed your seasonal exams?”_

_Sarek interrupted Spock’s response. “Wife, if you will excuse me. I have received a call from the embassy. I will take it in the office.”_

_Amanda simply nodded and watched her husband walk away, imagining she felt the pull of their long-blocked bond. It should not have been possible to sense him, so Amanda chalked it up to her imagination._

_“Spock?” Amanda asked, prompting her son to speak._

_“Yes. My exams have been completed and I am preparing for the next term to begin in six days.”_

_“How are you finding the other students?” she asked, directing Spock towards the double doors that led outside. Her son had always had difficulty making friends._

_“I am concerned with my studies, mother. Not the whims of the other students.”_

_“I understand, Spock, but…I worry. Oh, you know us humans. Always finding something to concern ourselves with.” She gave a dry chuckle._

_“Indeed, mother. You need not worry. My grades are impeccable and I have received commendations in two subjects.”_

_“Oh, that’s wonderful, Spock,” she said, pride nudging her listlessness aside for the moment. She loved her son so much._

_“It serves my purposes well, mother. I intend to graduate one term early and shall go south to the Dva-kel caves to study the propagation of the underground gishvara plants. You are familiar with them?”_

_“Of course. They are quite remarkable.” The pair passed through the doors and out into the dry sun. Amanda watched without comment as Spock inspected her plants, smiling faintly at his inquisitive nature and capturing the sight of him to keep in her memory._


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Spock ensconced himself in his office after a brief conversation, and Jim decided to hire a hover car to take him into town to shop. After several productive hours, Jim returned with more than he thought he’d find. The back of his shirt, soaked with sweat, clung to his shoulders as he pushed through the front door and into the coolness of the great room. 

During the first hour of sweating in the streets of the city, he’d realized that he should focus his shopping on native clothing to help him adjust to the weather. The two robes he selected were odd to imagine himself in, but he’d managed to find two pairs of linen-type pants he could wear, as well. The shopkeeper, a small Vulcan woman with a sharp nose, was used to selling to humans and had been very helpful. 

Jim tucked the packages under his arm and walked toward the bedroom. Spock was in his office peering at the bookshelf along the far wall.

“Hey, Spock,” Jim called out, pausing.

“Hello, Jim. Did you procure the items you desired?” Spock asked, glancing at Jim before pulling a blue book off the shelf.

“Yeah. Some clothes, a pair of slip-on shoes, and some other things. I picked up a few books to keep me occupied until I can find something to do. And, uh, thanks again for the credits. When my accounts are unfrozen, I’ll make sure I pay you back.” Jim’s face heated; he hated feeling so needy.

“As I mentioned before you departed, as my bondmate, you are entitled to my possessions and credits. There is no need to repay me.” Spock stared at Jim for a long moment and then crossed the room to sit at the desk.

“Yeah, I know, but I’ll add mine, all right? It’s not much, but I want to.” Jim shrugged, discomfort hollowing out his stomach.

“As you wish.” Spock nodded and picked up his PADD. 

Jim stared at the back of Spock’s neck for a long moment, not sure what to do now. This stilted weirdness was definitely going to get to him. “Well, okay. I’m going to take a shower and get things settled. Um…I was wondering about the stone tub in the washroom. Is that for bathing?”

“Yes. My mother had it installed when father purchased the house. She used it occasionally, indicating that it reminded her of her childhood home in the state of New Hampshire on Terra.”

“Ah, New Hampshire. Wow, what a difference Vulcan is from that. It’s so green!”

“Yes. She often mentioned the contrasts. You are welcome to use it, of course.” Spock glanced back at Jim.

“Awesome! That would be just about the best thing I could imagine.”

Spock said nothing but resumed tapping on his PADD. Jim stepped back and dropped his packages into the bedroom. He stripped off his sticky clothing on the way to the washroom and threw them on the floor. He adjusted the knobs and sighed as the first sputtering drops of water hit his hand under the faucet. He shivered with anticipation.

A sharp inhale of breath behind him caught his attention. Spock stood frozen in the doorway.

“Shit, sorry.” Jim grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around his waist. “I should have closed the door,” he stammered, his face growing hot. He’d been so focused on the thought of a bath, he hadn’t even noticed it was still open. Jim gave a strained laugh. “I guess it must be awkward to have me here.” 

Spock’s face flushed green. “My apologies.” He turned quickly and left Jim staring at the open door. 

Jim just shook his head and let out a sigh. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.

~*~

Feeling much more energized after his cool bath, Jim pulled on one of his new robes, a soft mossy green decorated with intricate blue stitching. The patterns, the shopkeeper had told him, were reminiscent of the Kish-tak monks and the ornate storytelling patterns they’d woven into handmade flaxen cloths. The robes were reproductions, of course, but Jim thought they were beautiful. Underneath, he opted for nothing, which he was told would be cooler. He was doubtful, but endeavored to submit to local wisdom. 

The afternoon passed quietly as Jim lounged on one of the long settees in the great room. He had a perfect view of the mountains and flipped through a Vulcan visitor’s guide. It seemed strange to him that he’d agreed to live on a planet he knew nothing about, but until his name was cleared, he’d make the best of it. 

“Jim,” Spock called to him from across the room. “You have a communique from Starfleet. It is marked confidential and has passed through the hands of my father. I suspect it is safe to read.” Spock extended a PADD.

“Oh, really? Interesting.” Jim laid the book on a side table and approached Spock. “I’m almost afraid to look.”

Jim glanced up at Spock and noticed him staring. “Thanks,” he said, taking the PADD. His fingers brushed Spock’s and he felt a warmth along his skin.

“Your robe is quite flattering,” Spock said and released the device into Jim’s hand. 

Jim was barely aware of what he had said. “Oh, thanks. The shopkeeper helped me pick it out.” Jim stared down at the PADD, seeing Sarek’s name and the Starfleet moniker in the message header.

Spock turned to leave. “I will be preparing a light dinner if you’d like to join me when you have completed reading your communique.” 

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be down in a minute.” Jim tapped the screen and the message opened. He grinned at the first line.

_Dear Jimmy! It’s me, Gaila. I convinced Admiral Pike (no sex, I promise) to send this communique to you, so I could say hello and let you know that we all miss you. I bet that surprises you, but we do. Even McCoy (he’s grumpier than usual). We heard you got bonded to a Vulcan so you could become a Vulcan citizen. I hope it’s a good thing, but I can’t quite picture it. I hope you won’t be there too long. You were in the news a lot for a while, but now it’s all press conferences and the rumors are that Marcus has some allies protecting him. Maybe even the Federation president. Stay safe there, Jim. I don’t know if you can send a message back, but I miss you, and so does Nyota. Try to stay out of trouble! (Ha ha — I know that’s not possible, but at least don’t get yourself hurt.). Tell your new husband that I said hello. I miss you! Love, Gaila._

Jim took a deep breath, feeling some of his loneliness fade away. Gaila, one of his best friends, along with Bones, sounded like her cheerful self. He wasn’t surprised that Marcus was still an admiral — he had deep ties to the Federation government, as well as twenty-five years in Starfleet. Jim guessed he’d blackmailed his way to his position, but who knew.

Saving the message, Jim closed out the screen and turned off the PADD. He smiled and tucked it under his arm as he went lightly down the steps into the kitchen where Spock was chopping vegetables. 

“Hey. That was my friend Gaila. She’s Orion and such a howl.” Jim grinned, happy to be thinking of her.

“A howl?” Spock asked, glancing up from the orange tubers.

“Really funny, a good time,” Jim answered. “She was one of my first friends at the Academy.”

“You were engaged in a sexual relationship with her?” Spock asked.

“What? No. I mean I tried to kiss her once, but no. Gaila’s all business.” Jim wrinkled his brow, confused by Spock’s question.

“Your expression indicates discomfort,” Spock said, sliding the orange slices into a bowl. “I posed my question due to my understanding of Orion relationships. They are primarily comprised of sexual encounters.”

“Yeah, no. I mean, we never… I was just surprised at your question. And I’m not straight, if you’re wondering. I like who I like.” Jim shrugged. “How about you?” He felt compelled to match Spock’s directness.

“I have not engaged in sexual activities with anyone. I am certain my attraction is to males, but I have chosen education over family.”

“Until now?” Jim asked. 

Spock half-turned and raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer. “Did you procure an alcoholic beverage on your shopping excursion today?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll go grab it.” Jim turned and sped up the steps to grab the bottle. He had no idea how it would taste, but the vendor assured him that other humans had enjoyed it.

Jim came breathlessly down the steps and offered the bottle to Spock. The Vulcan took it and twisted the cap and handed it back. He reached behind him to get a glass and offered it to Jim. 

“Do you want some?” Jim asked, sniffing the liquid. He poured some of the bright orange liquid into the glass. 

“Vulcans rarely drink,” Spock answered as he began chopping a brownish-purple vegetable. 

“Okay. Well, here goes…” Jim sniffed again and took a sip. It was very, very sweet. “Woo. That’s intense.” He took another larger sip and swirled it around in his mouth. “Tastes a little like cinnamon.” When he swallowed, the drink became sharper, almost sour. “Damn, that has a kick.” Jim sucked in a breath and laughed.

Spock just glanced at him and continued to chop. “My father sent a message indicating that Admiral Marcus still retains his position in Starfleet. I find this surprising. The information you provided very clearly implicated the Admiral.”

“Yeah, but those are probably under extra-super high clearance with only a few people seeing what’s in them. They can hide a lot from everyone. I swear they can scrub the Net of anything they don’t want making it to the public. Who’d the High Council send the documents to anyway?” 

“I am uncertain. Perhaps a discussion with my father would provide you with the answers.”

“Yeah. I guess. He said he’d be gone a few days. I’ll just wait. I’m just glad I’m not in a Starfleet brig.” Jim snorted and swirled the liquid in his glass before looking at Spock for a long moment. “Thank you for that, by the way. I never did thank you. Not everyone would do what you did…” Jim watched Spock’s expression.

“My father’s arguments were logical and it benefits both of us.” Spock turned away from Jim to slide vegetables into a pot of boiling water.

“How so? I know how it benefits me, but you… I guess I’m not sure what you’re getting out of this.” Jim took another sip, wincing at the sourness clinging to the back of his throat.

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Spock said smoothly, clearly not wanting to answer. “Would you like to eat in the dining room or on the terrace? The temperature should be quite tolerable at this hour.” 

“I don’t care. Either’s fine.” Jim watched Spock silently, wondering how to approach this closed, sensitive Vulcan. Directness, it seemed, only worked one way. 

Jim watched silently as Spock drained the vegetables with a slotted spoon and scooped those and some kind of rice into two bowls. “I suggest the terrace. Please bring your drink and glass of water for me.”

“Sure thing,” Jim answered as Spock carried two bowls past him to go up the steps. 

Spock led them to the double doors in the great room. They emerged together onto the wide stone terrace and Jim took in the landscape, just as breathtaking as the view from inside but now with a panorama of mountains both near and far. 

Stepping to the edge, he leaned over to see the rocky earth a hundred meters below. He turned and looked back at the house as it blended seamlessly into the rocks behind it, the stones roughly hewn to match the natural contours. To Jim’s left, he saw the next house, similarly hung below a massive outcropping of red rock. “This is amazing. I had no idea when I walked to the front door that this was on the other side.”

Jim sat at the small table where Spock set the two bowls. He slid the glass of water next to Spock’s chopsticks. 

Spock spoke as he sat, facing himself towards the mountains and giving Jim his ‘good side’. “The city was built upon the Shi-Kahr plateau two thousand years ago and since that time, many Vulcans have come to inhabit dwellings carved into the outer slopes.” 

“How did you come by this place?” Jim asked, glancing at Spock as he took his chopsticks in hand.

“My mother desired a home away from my father’s ambassadorial duties where she could work and rest in solitude. She told me that she loved the feeling of emptiness from the terrace. That,” Spock pointed to a wide wicker-style chair with a high back and elegant footrest, “was her favorite place to sit.”

Pensive, Jim considered the chair then turned to scan the landscape once more, breathing deeply in the cool evening air. “I can understand why she loved it. Do you,” he asked, facing Spock’s profile. “Love it, I mean?”

Spock tilted his head and paused before answering. “I have come to appreciate why she loved it, but for me, it is less of an escape...”

Spock’s voice trailed off and Jim inserted his own ending, _…and more like a prison._ “Yeah, I get it. It makes you feel small, you know? All that empty space and massive earth. But it is beautiful.” 

“Indeed. Much like your moon, I appear to have grown accustomed to it. Thank you for your vision, Jim. It reminds me of what I have forgotten.” Spoke glanced at him, expression placid.

Jim smiled around a mouthful of food. It was the first time he’d acknowledged the moment between them the previous night. Jim turned back to stare out towards the landscape. “What are those mountains?” he asked.

Spock answered, filling in the details, and answering more questions as Jim posed them. They chatted comfortably at they slowly ate their meals. Jim felt tension easing out of his body and he slouched down in his chair, letting his head fall back to stare up at the dimming sky. They sat in silence for a few moments until Jim sensed Spock staring at him. He turned his head and smiled softly. It seemed to startle Spock who rose abruptly to clear the bowls.

“Hey, do you want some help?” He asked, sitting up a little. 

“That will not be necessary. I have some matters to attend to. Good evening.” Spock gathered everything except Jim’s glass and walked away. 

At the sound of the closing doors, Jim let out a sigh. He was going to get whiplash from Spock’s hot and cold attitude. As soon as he thought he was getting somewhere, Spock would go all formal on him, and he couldn’t even imagine why. This time he hadn’t even said anything wrong. 

With his good mood a little soured, he drank down another glass of the liquor and shuddered only slightly less than he had at the first taste. Everything about Vulcan was apparently going to take some getting used to.

~*~

Deep into the night, Jim awoke sweating. With shallow breaths, he sat up, triggering a sharp pain through his head. As he slid off the bed, his robe became tangled — he’d obviously passed out still in his robe last night. Damn, had he forgotten to drink enough water? What a rookie mistake. Bones would have killed him. 

As quietly as he could, he untangled his robe and stumbled to the dresser and dug around in his kit for some analgesics. A throbbing pain behind his right eye forced a groan out of his mouth. In a wave of dizziness, his grip on the bag slipped, tilting it sideways, and several items fell noisily to the floor. “Shit,” he whispered. He collapsed more or less intentionally and tried to grab for the items as they skittered under the dresser. The effort sent shredding pains through his skull.

“You are in distress,” Spock said from the bed. 

“Yeah. Dehydrated. Headache,” Jim croaked, struggling to find the small items in the dark and giving up with a curse.

“Do you have anything for pain?” Jim winced at the sound of his own voice.

“Yes. One moment.” Spock got out of bed and went into the washroom. Jim closed his eyes as the light from that room spread into the hallway. When Spock returned, Jim opened his eyes once more to darkness. Spock’s feet appeared, peeking out beneath a pale robe. 

The Vulcan knelt down beside Jim with his hand out. “My mother used these for headaches. I believe two is the appropriate dose.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.” Jim snatched the tablets and threw them into his mouth. He drank the offered water, praying the pills would work quickly. Jim groaned again and held out the glass with shaking hands. God, he’d had a million hangovers — why did he feel like such shit?

“Jim, how long has it been since you received a tri-ox spray?” 

“Ugh, I don’t know. This morning?” Jim spun slowly around and leaned against the cool wood of the dresser. “There’re more in my bag. Shit.” Jim pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his head on his arms. He was starting to feel really sick in his stomach. 

A few moments later, Spock laid a hand on his arm and Jim felt the stinging of a hypospray on his neck. “How long does it take for the spray to work?”

“Few minutes…,” Jim answered, breath thready. 

“Jim, if I may…” Spock held out his hand towards Jim’s psi points. “I’d like to assess your condition telepathically. I am concerned.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“It is of no matter.” Spock pressed his fingers against Jim’s cheek and forehead. He felt a vague pressure and then a moment later, the pain was sliding away. Spock removed his fingers and Jim looked up at him. He could just make out his features.

“What did you do?” He blinked, stretching his neck from side to side with minimal pain. “That feels so much better.” He took a deeper breath. “And I think the tri-ox is working now, too. I can’t believe I didn’t take it.”

“I am gratified you are recovering.” 

“I want to lie down.” As Jim struggled to stand, he felt Spock tuck his arms under his legs and lift him easily. He placed him gently on the bed. 

“Ugh. Thank you. I’m such a lightweight. So embarrassing…” Jim turned on his side to ease his nausea and closed his eyes.

“We are all susceptible to the limitations of our bodies, Jim. Embarrassment is unnecessary.” 

Jim tucked his head down into the pillow as he felt Spock draw the blankets over him. A moment later he wasn’t sure if he felt Spock’s lips ghost over his forehead or if he was already dreaming.

~*~

The next morning brought a better physical state and Jim eased out of bed. He cautiously stepped towards the bathroom, noting that his kit had been zipped up and was on top of the dresser. 

As if sensing his waking, Spock appeared at the doorway. “How are you feeling?” the Vulcan asked, moving aside as Jim passed on his way to the washroom.

“Better. Thanks.” Jim closed the door behind him and relieved himself. He washed his hands and threaded his fingers through his messy hair. He looked well enough, although his brain was still clouded with sleep. He splashed some water on his face to wake up.

“Do you have any coffee?” he asked as he emerged, wiping water away from his neck. Spock was still dressed in his morning robes, pale a greenish color with black piping around the square neckline.

“I have tea. Both Vulcan and Terran.” 

“Tea. Yeah. I could use some tea. I’m going to change first.” Jim was still in his robe and it felt stiff and awkward. 

Just inside the door and outside of Spock’s view, he stripped off the blue garment and pulled on boxer-briefs and a pair of the linen-type pants. He threw on a black t-shirt.

As if trying to erase the night before, he smoothed out the rumpled sheets and tucked his kit back into the dresser drawer. The heavy curtains were drawn and he opened them, letting the sun fill the room. 

As he picked up his robe to put it in the laundry, Spock appeared holding a cup.

“Oh, wow. You didn’t have to do that.” He smiled gratefully and took the cup from Spock. 

“It was no trouble. The water was already hot from my own tea. The variety I chose for you is called ‘Darjeeling’. Does that meet with your approval?”

“Sure. That’s perfect.” Jim set the tea on the nightstand and crawled to sit against the pillows on the bed. He stretched out his legs.

Spock stood stiffly against the door jamb on the other side of the room. 

“So, what was that last night? A meld?” Jim asked, blowing over the rim of his cup before taking a sip of tea.

“I performed a surface scan to determine the origin of your pain. Upon finding it, I blocked it to give temporary relief. I apologize if it was intrusive.”

“Nah. It was awesome. I had no idea you could do that. Very cool, especially just then. I’ll have to remember to take the tri-ox twice a day instead of once and maybe avoid the orange stuff for a while.” Jim gave a lopsided grin and let his head fall back against the headboard.

“I would be happy to remind you,” Spock offered and Jim blinked in surprise.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m a grown-up, although Bones would definitely say different.” Jim chuckled and sipped more of the satisfying liquid.

“Bones?” Spock asked. 

“Yeah. My best friend, Doctor Leonard McCoy. I call him ‘Bones’ just to piss him off.”

“I see,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you don’t, but that’s okay. I imagine it’s a form of human humor that is a little bizarre. Mostly, it’s just me being an asshole. It’s great to see him get riled up. He’s a great guy — saved my ass a hundred times over.” Jim smiled as he thought of him. “I miss him.” 

“It is my hope that I will one day meet your friends, Jim. They seem to care about you a great deal.”

Jim snorted. “Yeah, I guess they do.”

Spock shuffled awkwardly and spoke. “I shall return to my correspondence, if there’s nothing else. I am gratified you are feeling better.”

“Yeah, I’m good, Spock. Thanks for taking care of me.” Jim smiled at him, putting as much warmth as he could into his words.

“It is my duty as your bondmate, Jim, to take care of you.” Spock could not meet Jim’s eyes and turned to walk away.

The smile lingered on Jim’s lips as he sipped the rest of his tea.

~*~

_Amanda’s fingers grazed over the texture of the dark red settee in the great room. She had handpicked the fabrics for all of the furniture in the house, choosing them with a mind to Vulcan tradition and human comfort. Over the nineteen years since she had arrived on Vulcan, she had come to admire the simplicity of their furnishings, heavy as they might sometimes be. Vulcans, it seemed, designed for both functionality and endurance, and expected what was made to last for two centuries or more. Since a Vulcan lived for nearly two-hundred years, it seemed practical to expect this from the things they kept in their homes._

_She strolled down the dimly lit hall to stand in the doorway of her office. This room, however, she thought with warm pride, was purely human. Delicate furniture shipped by freighter to Vulcan filled the room; the desk, the chair, the delicate curtains were all made expressly for her home. She loved this room beyond all others and spent many hours cataloging her plants and reading in the overstuffed chair in the corner. The lighting was a golden yellow and if she closed the blinds, she could imagine herself back on Earth. Lately, it was something she did more often than not as her thoughts turned darker and darker with the passing days._

_Spock had returned to his studies and was expected to graduate the VSA within the month. He had excelled, of course, just as she had always expected he would. Sarek, too, was thriving, traveling to Terra at least once a month to assist the Federation in establishing relations with several planets who sought entry. He appeared quite satisfied with his job, although she was aware of his disinterest in her well-being._

_Amanda settled herself once more in her favorite chair and drew the blinds. In the soft light of the reading lamp, she flipped through the pages of her PADD, looking at the pictures of her family when Spock was just a child. They had been so happy then. Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled the anguish of the last two years, the clawing feelings of sadness and grief at the blocking of her bond with Sarek, the deep disappointment of a failed marriage._

_She told him, of course, that it was what she wanted. That she desired to be separate from his coldness and to live on her own as she always had. Humans were never meant to bond, she told herself, and Sarek had reluctantly agreed. He acknowledged a kind consideration for her, but not love. And Amanda, for all of her visions of a happy marriage, could not live with that knowledge inside her own mind. She had wished it gone and he had complied, all the while maintaining the illusion of a happy family for his ambassadorial efforts. More than willing to keep Spock happy, she had complied with the ruse, expecting that the blocked bond would free her from Sarek’s lack of affection. After more than two years, however, the pain had not eased, and she knew now that it never would._

_It was only with Spock that she felt a deep love and warmth. His kindness and affection buoyed her through the darkest times, but soon he would leave her and the strength of their family bond would grow thin. The thought of that loss filled her with renewed grief and she sobbed, tears dripping across her knuckles where she clutched the PADD to her chest. Somehow, this all had to end._

~*~

The day passed quickly for Jim as he finally settled into the house. He ate and read and tinkered with Spock’s hover car, inoperable due to lack of use. Within a few hours, the car had rumbled to life and he felt satisfied to engage in the hands-on work.

Spock, for his part, conducted a six-hour lecture behind closed doors. Jim was intensely curious to hear his Vulcan husband’s teaching, but respected his privacy until he was more comfortable with Jim’s presence.

Settled under the cover of an umbrella, Jim sat in Amanda’s favorite chair on the terrace. He tapped on his PADD and composed letters to Gaila and Bones. He didn’t feel like he had much to say, but he wanted them to know he was okay. He almost went as far as inviting them to Vulcan, but thought better of it. Spock could barely show his face to Jim, so it didn’t exactly seem smart to put him on the spot with strangers. 

Curiosity once again prodded Jim and he opened a search to see what he could find out about Spock. Vulcan news tended away from personal information, but he had been able to locate a death record for Spock’s mother some five years before.

 _Accidental_. 

Huh. Maybe that was how Spock got his scars? An accident? Part of him felt guilty for probing the records, but forewarned is forearmed, right? He ignored the warning signals in his own mind and deepened his search. 

Spock’s commendations from the VSA were shown, as well as at least a dozen papers on various forms of plant life on Vulcan. Spock’s specialty during his time at the VSA appeared to be related to parasitic plant life. Jim couldn’t imagine plants in caves, but according to the papers it was indeed possible. Checking the dates, Jim saw the gap that must have occurred after Spock’s mother’s death. From there, the articles were published more slowly and gradually changed topic from parasitic plants to the study of hybrid cacti. It made sense to Jim that he would pick up his mother’s work, but it also reminded Jim of why it had happened. And it gave him so many more questions.

Clicking through the pages eventually landed Jim at the VSA and information about their admissions process. Jim studied the history and academic requirements for entry. He had excelled on the computer engineering track at the Academy, but it was command that had really sparked his interest the most. Now that dream was gone, or at least through Starfleet. 

With curiosity and hope, Jim tapped and tapped, searching and finally settling on a program that might help him get to the stars anyway. Apparently, the VSA had a small exploratory fleet of ships. He grinned as he imagined himself commanding a bunch of stoic Vulcans. It made him chuckle and he sprung out of the chair to find Spock. 

Finding his door open, Jim called out. “Spock, got a minute?”

“Of course. Come in, Jim.” Spock turned slightly in his chair as Jim approached and sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner.

“So, I was thinking about what to do with myself. As much as I love having some down time after the craziness with Marcus, I’m going to go nuts if I don’t do something. I was thinking of applying to the VSA…Do you think that’s a crazy idea?”

Spock turned fully towards Jim, raising one brow, his face appearing somewhat surprised. 

“As far as I am aware, no human has ever been accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“But a half-human was…” Jim ventured.

“Indeed. I found the work challenging but not as difficult as the admissions staff suggested it might be.” 

“Do you think they were trying to change your mind? You know, so you didn’t apply?”

“Perhaps…” Spock swallowed and folded his hands neatly on his lap and looked towards the floor. Jim stared at him, more interested, he found, in his words than in the scars that immobilized half of his face. It was nice, really, that they could have a face-to-face normal conversation.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Jim asked.

“Prior to the VSA, I found the other students to be intolerant of my human half. They routinely taunted me in an attempt to elicit an emotional reaction.”

“So, they bullied you?”

Spock hesitated. “I suppose that is an accurate word for it. While my fellow VSA students engaged in less obvious…bullying, I excelled nonetheless.” Spock’s chin rose up a bit and he met Jim’s eyes.

“Yeah. I saw your commendations.” Jim smiled and then his eyes grew wide when Spock’s face shut down and he swiveled his chair away from Jim. 

“Hey, I was curious,” he answered, trying to brush off his snooping. “It’s amazing all the things that you’ve done. Parasitic plants? Totally fascinating. Creepy, but fascinating…” Jim shuffled in his seat, determined to push through the awkwardness. Spock was, as Bones would say, about as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

“So, what do you think? About me applying to the VSA?” Jim rubbed his hands on his pants.

“You should do what you desire, Jim. Entrance exams are ongoing.” Spock’s voice was flat.

“I saw that. I also need five letters of recommendation. I don’t think I can get any of my professors from the Academy to provide them, so not sure where that leaves me.”

Spock glanced at Jim. “I am sure my father would provide a letter of recommendation for you. It might also be possible to obtain your academic records from Starfleet. I shall send my father a communique. It is possible that he could obtain them before returning from Terra later this week.”

“Oh, that would be awesome. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe I won’t get in, but I want to try, you know? I never wanted to go to Starfleet when I was younger, because of my dad and all, but once I got there, I don’t know, it changed me. I’d never realized that I had starfire in my blood.”

“Starfire?” Spock asked, appeared curious.

“My word for that urge to explore. I love space, the bigger the better. I don’t think I’ve really dealt with everything I worked for being…well…gone. I worked my ass off at the Academy and it was all for nothing.” Jim felt his thoughts turn sour. There had never been guarantees — his father had died on the day of his birth. Jim had known all his life that anything could change at any moment. 

“I am aware of your sacrifice, Jim.” Spock said, searching out Jim’s gaze. “It is one of the most compelling reasons I agreed to bond with you. You have given much to protect my people. I am grateful.”

Jim blushed and twisted his fingers together. “Yeah, I just…it was so wrong what they were doing. You’re all pacifists — we need peace not war and Marcus wanted war. It’s big business, you know, with private contracts. Starfleet was supposed to be non-military, even though it still has a military structure. They’ve been launching exploratory missions, missions to find new life and civilizations, not to dominate. I can’t believe Marcus thought siding with the Romulans would be a good idea!” Jim raked a hand through his hair. Fucking asshole.

“Agreed, Jim. You not only saved the Vulcan’s participation in the Federation, but undoubtedly saved countless lives. Your heroism should have been lauded. Being accused of treason is unjustifiable.” 

Jim stared at Spock and felt his ears burning. He didn’t expect such a passionate defense from him. “Thanks. I mean, I don’t think I even thought of that. I just…there was a secret meeting and if that had happened, I think everything would have blown up.”

“I believe you are right. My father has not shared the details, but it appears that your intervention was superbly timed.”

“It was luck, Spock. I seem to have some of it and it worked out in my favor. And yours.” Jim rubbed his lips. “Well, for the most part.” Jim still didn’t know why Spock had agreed so easily to bond with him.

“You are remarkably cheerful given the changes in your life,” Spock said, giving Jim a strange look.

He just shrugged. “I’m alive, Spock. I have this great place to live, protection with the Vulcans,” Jim stared meaningfully at Spock. “Maybe something more…” He really did want to try something with Spock.

“Indeed,” Spock answered, seeming to brush over Jim’s pointed remark. “Your attitude is remarkable, Jim. I must admit that my exposure to humans is limited to my mother and our yearly visits to Terra. I have met my mother’s family, but do not remember this alacrity in the face of so much turmoil.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess.” Jim shrugged again, not entirely comfortable with so much praise.

“You are most welcome. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist you with the VSA admissions process.”

“Oh, actually, if you have time, I do have some questions…” 

~*~

As Jim prepared to sleep, his mind spun with the long list of things he’d have to do just to make an application to the VSA. Spock had reviewed the list with him and had offered suggestions, including more than a dozen books, and more articles than he could count. It all left him feeling overwhelmed and really starting to wonder if he could do it. He’d been recruited into the Academy, but this was vastly different. 

He washed his face and brushed his teeth before injecting himself with a second tri-ox spray. He should have done it after dinner, but it seemed easier to remember before bed. 

Spock was downstairs in the kitchen and Jim wondered what would happen if they happened to go to bed at the same time. Neither had broached the topic of sex, but Jim was pretty sure that was a component of being bonded…right? He was definitely attracted to the guy, but didn’t know if sex was even something Spock thought about — and he said he was a virgin. That hadn’t exactly surprised him, but he had no idea what that meant for the two of them. 

Clicking on a light at his bedside, Jim grabbed one of the books Spock had lent him and starting flipping through it. He was familiar with many of the concepts, but his brain was too fatigued to really take anything in. Instead he picked up his Vulcan visitor’s guide hoping to find something interesting to do the next day. He’d been cooped up in the house for too long.

A few minutes later, Spock appeared at the door and paused before entering. “I have prepared a breakfast meal for us to share in the morning. If you awake before me, simply put it in the oven for fifteen minutes. I believe you will enjoy it.”

“Okay, thanks.” Jim chuckled. “I doubt very much that I’ll get up before you. You sleep a lot less than I do.”

“That is true. Vulcans require rest less frequently than humans and for much shorter periods of time. We also meditate which sometimes replaces sleep.”

“Right. I wondered about that. Where do you meditate?”

“In my office. It has a calming presence on my mind.”

“So, was that your mother’s office? I mean, I’m asking because it seems a little different from the rest of the house.”

“It was. She purchased the items during our last trip to Terra and shipped them to Vulcan. It was interesting to accompany her.”

“I’ll bet. How was it being on Earth? Did you get much hassle?” Jim knew Vulcans did not travel often to Terra, finding human emotionalism quite intolerable.

“I was welcomed with warmth and curiosity. Moreso than from my own people.” Spock opened a drawer and drew out his sleeping robe. “Excuse me.” He disappeared into the bathroom and Jim’s skin tingled, wondering what might come next. 

When Spock emerged a while later, he avoided Jim’s eyes, but seemed relaxed enough. He lifted the blankets and sat on the bed next to Jim. He, too, had a book and Jim felt himself smiling at the pure domesticity of it. It was certainly weird and nothing he’d ever experienced before. 

“So, um… Don’t freak out, but Vulcans, they do have sex, right? I mean there are Vulcan babies…” 

Jim felt Spock freeze. “Indeed. Sexual contact is an important part of a bond.” 

“Right. Is that…uh, something you want?” Jim just needed to ask. He never could leave an awkward moment alone.

“It is an aspect of the bond I have considered favorably.” Spock ventured a glance at Jim who grinned. 

“Excellent.” He tossed his book on the nightstand and clicked out the light. “I have an idea,” he said in the dark. “Trust me?”

After a pause, Spoke stiffly. “What is your idea?” 

Jim slid towards Spock until he was close enough to hear him breathing. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Spock whispered. 

“Slide down, okay?” Jim waited until Spock complied and laid a hand on his chest. He felt the faint patter of his heart on his side. “It’s strange to feel your heartbeat not where I expect it.”

“Vulcan anatomy is very similar to Terran, but there are some differences.” 

With his face close to Spock’s shoulder, he moved his hand and explored Spock’s robe-clad chest and stomach before sliding his arms up to his neck. He felt the pulse beating faster, his skin hot and smooth. Jim, for his part, was already totally turned on. Spock’s willingness seemed to catalyze his resolve and he nudged himself closer, to press his forehead against Spock’s cheek.

“This okay?” Jim asked, letting his fingers trace Spock’s shoulders and feeling his nod, ran a hand down his arm before grasping his fingers. Spock inhaled sharply and Jim smiled. He released his grip and grasped Spock around his waist to squeeze him tight. He nuzzled Spock’s jaw and ear with his nose, inhaling the scent of him.

Jim traced his fingers along Spock’s body again, carefully avoiding his erogenous zones and the scars on the side of his face. He felt a strong desire to kiss him, but he held back, wary of pushing too hard.

It was Spock who turned his face to Jim and pressed a light kiss on his forehead. Jim grinned and repositioned himself to lay his head on Spock’s chest and tried to snuggle, albeit a little awkwardly. A while later, Spock moved to tuck his arm under Jim and pulled him closer. Jim sighed and let himself relax in his husband’s arms. For once, it all seemed like it might work out just like he wanted. Satisfied with their progress, Jim let himself drift off to sleep. Tomorrow, he would tackle the rest.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim woke suddenly to the sound of voices. He sat up, sensing urgent tones, and rubbed his eyes. The shadow falling over the bedroom windows told him it was early morning.

“Jim,” Spock called out as he approached their bedroom. “My father has arrived.” He stopped short as Jim was climbing out of bed. “Will you please join us in the kitchen? I have heated our breakfast and made tea.”

“Everything okay?” he asked as he passed into the washroom.

“I will explain when you arrive downstairs.” Spock walked back down the hall and Jim quickly relieved himself and washed his face. He threw on his other robe and headed downstairs.

“Ambassador. It’s good to see you,” Jim greeted, seeing the elder Vulcan standing next to the center island with a cup of tea.

“Hello, Jim. Call me Sarek, please,” the Vulcan said. 

“Right. Sarek. How was your trip?” Jim smiled and took a cup from Spock before settling on the stool at the end of the island. He glanced at Spock’s profile as he stirred his cup of tea. 

“It was informative. Spock contacted me with your request for Starfleet Academy records. Captain Pike assured me your records would be forwarded to me by the week’s end. I hope that is suitable.”

“Yeah, that’s great.” Jim sipped his tea. “But what else is going on?” His instincts rarely led him astray. 

Sarek glanced at Spock. “Further investigation has revealed two Vulcans were complicit in the plans to eliminate Vulcan from the Federation. They have been jailed, but we expect further investigation to reveal other Vulcans who desired separation from the Federation.” 

“Enough to push for an alliance with Romulans? That doesn’t make any sense,” Jim said as Spock slid a plate of food in front of him.

“It is my understanding that the Vulcans involved were unaware of Admiral Marcus’s plans to align with the Romulans. Instead, it is believed that the isolationists, as we might call them, wanted Vulcan independence from the Federation.”

“Huh. I never knew there were Vulcans who objected to the Federation.” He scooped a spoonful of breakfast into his mouth.

Spock sat down, mostly facing Jim and finally and spoke. “It happens every ten to twelve years. Vulcans are a proud and independent race and when too many outworlders come to our planet, some object.”

“But to actually find an ally in the Federation who agreed. Wow. That takes some chutzpah.” Both Sarek and Spock looked at Jim with raised eyebrows. 

He laughed. “Guts, moxie, nerve… all the same thing. But I thought all Vulcans were pacifists.” Jim set his spoon down to drink more tea. 

Sarek resumed speaking. “I am not sure the isolationists intended to incite violence. I have not read their interview transcripts, but I expect to find surprise among their reactions.”

“Jim,” Spock said, standing to pour more hot water in his cup. “My father has expressed concern for your safety.” 

Jim coughed into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Given the unstable nature of Vulcan politics, you might become a target for other isolationists,” Sarek filled in.

“Of course…” Jim answered with sarcasm. “I’ve had a target on my ass for weeks, but I thought Vulcans were pacifists. Or are you saying that they might allow some non-pacifist humans the opportunity to hurt me?” It shouldn’t surprise him that Marcus would find a way to get to him.

“That is the concern,” Spock said gravely. He looked at his father and back at Jim.

“Okay. So what do we do?” Jim placed his hands flat on the table, readying himself for action.

“With Spock’s permission, I have ordered the installation of an advanced warning system around the residence.” 

“So, like an alarm system?” Jim asked, looking between the two Vulcans.

“Yes. It is the same one used around the Embassy and around my private residence. Amanda never wanted it, so it was never installed.” Sarek looked at Spock. “A team will arrive in two-point-three hours to install the house monitoring panel and provide instruction.”

“Very well, father. I appreciate your attention to this matter.” 

“Yeah, me, too. And, damn. I’m sorry to bring this all down on you, Spock.” Jim rubbed his face. He had been enjoying the peace so much. 

“Apologies are not only unnecessary, they are rejected. It is our job to protect our family,” Spock said with some force to his voice.

Jim stared, surprised at his vehemence. “Okay. I hear you. Sarek, how can I help?”

“Stay safe, Jim. Be on alert and do not travel alone. If you require one, I can provide a personal guard for excursions.” Sarek finished his tea and stepped back.

“No, I’m good. I don’t need to go anywhere. Spock, it might be good to get some extra tri-ox sprays if this is going to take a while. I had planned to get some later today.”

“I’ll take care of it, Jim.” Spock held Jim’s eyes for a long moment and Jim smiled.

“I must depart. Thank you for the tea, Spock. Jim, I wish you long life.” He gave the _ta’al_ and walked towards the steps.

At the sound of the front door closing, Jim exhaled and looked at Spock’s profile as he gathered his father’s discarded cup. “How big of a deal is this?”

“It is…concerning. My father believed it important enough to come directly here from the spaceport. I share his concerns for your safety.” Spock approached Jim. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I have training and I can defend myself. I just hate that this is coming to your home. You don’t deserve this.” Jim’s voice was pained. He fucking hated Marcus.

“Your pain is my burden to bear, Jim,” Spock said, turning for once to fully face him and extending two fingers towards Jim. “This is the manner of showing affection to one’s mate on Vulcan. Similar to holding hands among humans.”

Jim smiled, eyes taking in Spock’s soft expression. He also extended his first two fingers, sliding them along Spock’s. A tingle slid up his arm and his smile widened. “I like it,” he offered and Jim watched in amazement as a green blush spread across one of his cheeks. 

When Spock noticed Jim’s lingering gaze, he turned away. “I will clean up here. You are welcome to check the PADD on my desk for messages from Starfleet. I know you contacted your two friends, although as of several hours ago, there were no replies.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.” He didn’t expect any trouble, but he was grateful that he wasn’t alone in it anymore.

~*~

Jim trailed after the technicians as they established a perimeter. He made suggestions based on the schematics they provided for him. For Vulcans, they were surprisingly willing to share information with him. He suspected that these men worked directly for Sarek and he was grateful. 

Sweating profusely, he came into the house and spotted Spock staring out the windows towards the mountains.

“Spock? Everything okay?” Jim asked, a little breathless.

“I am adequate, Jim. The technicians are in the kitchen installing the primary hardware for the alert system. They’ve also installed several DNA-encoded sensors at each entrance.”

“Cool. I love the tech they’ve created. So much more elegant than the Federation version. It’s species coded, but not down to the DNA. I can’t wait to dig into the schematics further.”

“I am gratified by your interest. Are you worried?” Spock stepped toward him.

“Nah. I think walking through Golden Gate Park at three a.m. is more dangerous than this. Your place is like a fortress already. It only has three entrances and the rest, well, they’d need to rappel or use a shuttle craft. I think we’d notice that.” 

“Indeed. We should, however, be on alert until the matter is resolved.” Spock warned him.

“Yup. Will do. Hey, do have any ideas for a place where I can start studying? I was wondering about the library. It doesn’t have a desk, but I thought I could figure something out in there.”

“That is an excellent idea. Once the technicians leave, we can asses it together. I have storage space above the car port. Many of the books are available electronically, so are now redundant and can be removed from the room.”

“Cool. I’m going to take a quick shower then.” Jim grinned at Spock and gave him a playful salute.

~*~

_The hover card ride from the Shi-Kahr center was more turbulent than usual, buffeting winds making Amanda nauseous as the ship rocked. The dry season, with its harsh winds was in full effect and travel was sometimes thwarted. She’d found a willing driver, but was now wishing she hadn’t._

_As the ship crawled along the outer rim of the city, Amanda watched the landscape roll by. Spock’s graduation ceremony had been lovely and her heart had swelled with pride. Her son, so brilliant and sensitive, had worked hard to achieve his status among the top three graduates and his speech offered praise for both the VSA and for his parents. Surprising her, he explicitly mentioned his human heritage and promoted greater openness among the VSA for non-Vulcan applicants. His words were met with stone-faced responses, but she had been proud nonetheless. Despite his childhood problems, Spock had grown into a capable individual with much to offer._

_In her heart, however, she thought of her little boy, the one who had come home with a bruise on his cheek and had refused to talk about it. Week after week, some part of him had been injured and week after week, he refused to identify the perpetrators. It had been her insistence with Sarek that pushed the school to finally observe the students more closely. In the end, the bullies had been identified and disciplined, but it was Spock who had received the most negative consequences of all — attention from students who had otherwise not noticed him. The verbal bullying, sharp and painful, lasted until Spock graduated from secondary education, leaving him both strong yet terribly insecure._

_Many times during those years, Amanda had pleaded with Sarek to allow them to move back to Earth. He’d refused of course, indicating that their place, particularly her son’s place, had been on Vulcan. Spock, too, rejected the notion of living on Earth, although he had been more willing to consider it than had Sarek._

_Now, with Spock’s official schooling at an end, Amanda felt free to make her own decisions. Spock, long considered an adult, seemed like her responsibility until he completed his VSA studies. Today, that period of her life had come to a close._

_As the hover car turned and parked in front of her home, she took a deep breath and handed the driver a credit chip. She left the car and stepped into the cooler air of the house. The sun remained high in the sky, filling the great room with light as she entered. She passed into the bedroom and changed into a day robe before letting her hair down from its twisted knot._

_In two days, Spock would leave for the Dva-Kel caves to conduct research for nearly three months. While Amanda was happy for Spock’s opportunities, the one thread sustaining her would become thin and then mute as Spock descended into the caverns. The thought of it made her hands shake as she unclasped her necklace and dropped it into her jewelry tray. She took a steadying breath and calmed her nerves._

_In two days time everything would be prepared._

~*~

Jim and Spock spent several hours converting the library into a workable office for Jim. They hadn’t found a desk amid the books, but moved two tables from the great room to act as a temporary surface where he could set up his things. 

“It’s gonna be great, Spock. I’m pretty excited!” Jim grinned and nudged Spock’s shoulder as they surveyed their work. He was also really happy about their camaraderie — it was easier and smoother than Jim had expected. His new husband was indeed opening up to him, and might even have a sense of humor.

“I am gratified. I must, however, take my leave to check my correspondence. I am usually more attentive to my students.” 

“Well, you did just get bonded. Doesn’t that give you an excuse or something,” Jim asked.

Spock avoided his gaze for a moment. “I did not inform the Academy of my betrothal.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jim rubbed his neck, not sure what that meant, but thinking it wasn’t good. 

“I shall rectify that error. Please excuse me.” Spock turned and retreated to his office.

Jim stood in place trying to assess his confused feelings. It shouldn’t matter, but it kind of did. Jim shook his head against the confusion and sat down in a chair next to one of the small tables. Jim perused the stack of books on his desk and started to make a prioritized reading list. Once he was done, he picked up the first text and sat back to begin. Much to his surprise, Spock appeared at the door to the library.

“Jim. I offer my apologies for failing to inform my superiors of our bonding. I have no adequate explanation for my failure.” Spock stared resolutely at the floor and avoided Jim’s gaze.

Sitting up and easing the book closed, Jim spoke. “Spock, it’s no big deal. I mean, yeah, I was surprised because I thought bonding was a big deal, but really, I guess it was pretty fast. Don’t worry about it.”

Spock stood frozen and did not respond. Jim saw a pained expression on his face and stood up to stand close to him. When Spock glanced up, he saw the flush of green on his cheek and ear. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to grasp Spock’s fingers. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s confusing, right? Five days ago I had no idea I’d be married, but now I am. Things happen and sometimes it takes a while to adjust. I know you’ll tell them when you’re ready.” He squeezed Spock’s fingers, radiating forgiveness in his thoughts. 

Without warning, Spock leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss onto Jim’s lips. His cheek shone a deeper shade of green and Jim chuckled, his eyes crinkling with affection. “That was nice. I’d like to do that again.” 

And when he didn’t protest, Jim pressed his lips against Spock’s and slid his hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. Spock responded after a moment and laid his hands gently on Jim’s waist. The kiss didn’t deepen, but as their bodies drew closer, Jim felt the bond seem to flare to life, sending a thrill of warmth and affection through it. 

Jim jerked back, his face amazed. “Hey, I felt that!” He laughed, delighted. “Was that the bond. Is that what happens?”

Spock nodded, his mouth quirking ever so slightly. 

“Wow. I can’t wait to see what happens later, when, you know…” He was suddenly unable to finish his sentence which made him laugh even more. “What a pair we are. I think you’re awesome, Spock, and I’m having so much fun getting to know you.” 

He gave Spock one last quick kiss and stepped away. “Now, I’m starving. How about some of that curry you made the other night?”

Spock regarded him with soft features. “As you wish, Jim.”

*~*

Jim leaned back in his chair with a full stomach and a sense of calm as he and Spock talked about topic after topic until the dining room grew dim with the setting sun. His bondmate was obviously very smart, but he was also quite curious about things he knew nothing about. He didn’t seems to possess the arrogance that Jim had experienced with so many other Vulcans. It was refreshing and Jim learned a ton about lots of different things.

“You’re really different, you know. From other Vulcans,” Jim said, taking a drink of the one glass of orange liquor he was allowing himself. 

“So, I have been told.” Spock’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

“No, I know. I didn’t mean it like that. I think it’s wonderful. I am sure all you wanted to do was fit in, but I really like you this way. Vulcans have a way of making humans feel like something they’ll need to scrape off their shoe. I never feel stupid around you.” Jim smiled, hoping he hadn’t just wrecked their evening.

“I understand, Jim. I must admit to an unwanted emotional reaction to your statement. I have been told repeatedly that my sensitivity is a betrayal of my Vulcan heritage. I have attempted to overcome my human side for most of my life. Your comment reminds me that I have not succeeded.” Spock, took a tiny sip of his small portion of the orange liquor. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. I’m coming to this late in the game and, I just…I really appreciate you. Who you are and what you’ve made of yourself here. I know I don’t have all the puzzle pieces, but you’re strong, Spock. I know it and I admire it.” 

“Thank you, Jim. I could say the same of you. I know only what my father has told me of you. It is clear to me, as well, that you have overcome adversity.”

Jim couldn’t help a chuckle. “We’re really a pair, aren’t we? I’m starting to think this was meant to be, Spock. You and me. It just feels right, you know?” Jim’s gaze flitted away from Spock’s, uncertain.

“I share your sentiment, Jim,” Spock said, looking at Jim with a pensive expression. “Despite the terrible circumstances that brought you to my door, I am grateful for your presence.”

Jim grinned with relief and raised his glass. “To us, Spock. Two outcasts who found each other.” 

Spock raised his glass and Jim reached toward him to clink the edges together. He drained his glass and watched Spock do the same. With a stretch and groan, Jim stood and gave Spock a heady stare.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

~*~

Jim waited in the bedroom for Spock to finish his evening routine when he heard a loud scraping sound. He froze, then heard another, followed by a thud. He plastered himself against the wall and slid towards the dresser. Opening the lowest drawer, he reached inside his discarded duffel and found the phaser he’d stolen from a locker on his way to Vulcan three weeks ago. 

The entire house was dark except for the lamp in Amanda’s room, always lit, and the light seeping under the bathroom door. Jim listened as faint footsteps padded closer. Jim set his phaser to stun and held it high, his finger poised on the light switch to blind their visitor. 

Before he could react, Spock opened the bathroom door and gasped. Jim spun into the hall, seeing a dark-clad figure holding a disruptor to Spock’s head. Fuck.

“We’re not here for you, Vulcan. It’s Kirk we want and if you both cooperate, no one gets hurt,” The man snarled.

“No fucking way, moron. You’re in my house,” Jim declared. 

“Make one move and your Vulcan lover here gets matching scars on the other side of his face.” The assailant’s voice sounded Terran.

Jim froze, eyes locked on the weapon and then in a moment of desperation, Jim thought as loudly as he could, hoping beyond hope that Spock could hear him through their bond. _On the count of three, Spock. Drop to your knees. Can you hear me? Drop on three._ Spock glanced at him and blinked slowly, which Jim took as confirmation. 

Jim took a breath and thought loudly, _One, two, three…_

Spock did exactly what he was told and one instant later, Jim fired right in the asshole’s face. He went down with a thud and Spock grabbed his weapon. 

“Hit the lights,” Jim directed, and watched as Spock illuminated the hallway. The assailant lay awkwardly on the floor, jaw slack. Jim slid along the wall to the great room and flicked on the main light array. One of the large windows had been cut to gain entry. 

“I’m going to check the rest of the house. Somehow they bypassed the security. Call the authorities, Spock, but let me check the office first.”

Jim poked his head in both Spock’s office and the library and found nothing amiss. “All clear, Spock. I’ll be back.”

“Jim,” Spock called out. “Be careful.” 

He just nodded firmly and disappeared down the steps toward the kitchen. Nothing else was disturbed and Jim opened the door to check out the security array in the pantry. The lights were out — someone had pulled the battery backup and cut the line to the electric grid. _Damn._ One of the workers. It had to be.

Jim came up the steps calling to Spock. “All clear, Spock. The power—fuck!” Jim shouted, rushing toward Spock who was now on the floor in the gunman’s place.

“Spock, what happened? I stunned that fucker good!”

The Vulcan sat up and rubbed the side of his head. “I do not know. I was performing a meld, just to see what I could learn, when he jerked up and hit me hard. I do not know where he went, Jim. I was worried he had discovered you.” Spock’s eyes were worried. 

Jim put a calming hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m okay, Spock. He must have gone out the way he came in. Damn. Did you call the authorities? Sarek?”

“No, I wanted to capture his thoughts before he regained consciousness.”

“Okay. Lemme get the comm.” Jim dashed into the office and pulled the comm off Spock’s desk. “Here. I don’t have a clue how to reach anyone.” 

Jim retrieved the disrupter that had slid down the hallway in the scuffle and waited for Spock to contact his father. 

“Sa-mekh. An intruder has broken into the house. Please send security.” Spock adjusted his robes as his father spoke. “We are both currently safe. Jim executed himself with tremendous bravery.” 

“Spock was awesome, Sarek,” Jim said, pressing his lips against the edge of the comm, ignoring Spock’s slightly shocked expression.

“Jim has searched the house but I am unaware of the status of the alarm system. I know it did not sound.”

“It’s been disabled,” Jim said, loud enough for Sarek to hear. 

“Jim indicates it has been disabled…” Spock said. His face was pale, the green shading of the lacework scars in stark contrast. “Long life, sa-mekh. I will see you shortly.”

When the call ended, Jim stood up, body locked with tension. “I’m gonna kill whatever fucker put us in this situation. No wonder they were so nice. Assholes. Probably thinking about the stupid human they were going to dupe. Goddamnit.” His insides were trembling with anger.

He peered down the hallway. “I better take watch. I’m sure no one else is coming tonight, but I don’t want to risk it.”

Jim glanced back at Spock. “Can you stand? I want you behind a locked door. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

Spock pushed himself up the wall with some difficulty and Jim tugged on his arm. “Okay. Come with me. You can wait in the office. I’ll be fine, but I want you safe in there.”

Jim escorted Spock to the overstuffed chair in the office and made him sit. “I’m going to close the door, but I’ll be right outside.”

Spock spoke hesitantly. “My apologies for my lack of help, Jim. I have only the most rudimentary defense skills.”

“You don’t need them. Shouldn’t need them. This is my fault, Spock. I brought this down on you,” Jim’s voice was filled with anger and self-reproach. 

“You are not to blame for the illegal actions of other beings.” Spock touched the side of his head and his fingers came back green. “I will need the first aid kit out of the closet when you have a moment.”

“Shit. Okay. Hold on.” What the hell was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he checked Spock out. He was injured and he hadn’t even noticed. Jim took three giant steps to the closet and pulled out a white bag. Inside, it was filled with bandages and other supplies. 

“I’m sorry, Spock. Are you okay?” Jim squatted down and tried to see the wound at the jagged, scarred edge of his hairline. Spock quickly turned his face away and raised a hand to ward him off. “I can tend to it,” he said, grasping the gauze out of Jim’s hand. 

Jim blinked and leaned back. He thought they’d moved past this. “Okay. You sure?”

“I can assure you that I am fine. The blow startled me, but my injuries are minor.” Spock pressed the gauze to his skin, face averted. “Do what you must, Jim. I will wait here.”

Jim stood and looked toward the door to the hall. “Okay. I’ll be back when your father and the security agents get here.” He reached out and touched Spock’s arm. “Shouldn’t be long, okay?”

“Yes, Jim. I understand,” Spock said, his eyes averted as Jim closed the door.

With his mind shifting into gear, Jim scanned the area around him and opened the front door for Sarek. The great room was in disarray, the floor littered with broken glass chunks and a rope hanging against a second, unbroken window. His stupid joke about rappelling down the house had come true. 

In the ten minutes it took for Sarek to arrive, Jim’s anger, his rage at Marcus and the isolationist Vulcans, grew. They’d injured his bondmate and he was beyond caring about himself. He wanted their asses.

“Jim,” Sarek said as he burst into the house. “Are you injured?”

“No, I’m good. Spock got hit, though. He’s in the office.” Jim watched closely as five Vulcans in dark red robes followed Sarek through the front door.

“Jim, these are members of the V’Kor. They will collect evidence and conduct the official investigation into the breach. Please relay what you have experienced.”

“And I can trust them?” Jim asked, eying Sarek suspiciously. “I trusted the alarm system installers and one of them clearly turned.”

“We have found the original installers tied up in their hovercar and hidden behind a building nearly a _mat’drih_ from here — a kilometer. The installers you met were imposters.”

“Fuck.” Jim was feeling suddenly outnumbered. 

“I must tend to my son,” Sarek said and disappeared down the hall. 

Jim stared at the five Vulcans who had spread out in the great room. He watched them work and stiffened when one approached. “I see you have a Starfleet-issued phaser, Mr. Kirk.”

“Yeah. What of it?” Jim snarled.

“An emotional reaction is not necessary. It is a simple question.” The Vulcan towered over him.

“Sorry, I’ve been running for my life for the past three weeks, I didn’t realize I needed to answer to you about protecting myself or the people I care about.” Jim didn’t cut his sarcasm.

“We are aware of your compromised situation, Mr. Kirk. It does not alleviate us of the responsibility of ensure the safety of Vulcan. Weapons of this kind are strictly regulated. In addition, this unit is clearly stolen.” The Vulcan stared at him without expression.

Jim didn’t even bother to answer, just crossed his arms over his chest and held the weapon more tightly in his hand. Just wait until they found out he had a disruptor in his belt. Then they’d really freak.

~*~

Hours after it had all begun, Sarek and the V’Kor had finally finished their investigation. At Sarek’s insistence, Jim and Spock were escorted to his home on the opposite side of Shi’Kahr. They were silent in the car but Jim held onto Spock’s hand, mindless of the emotions he radiated through their touch. 

Spock, with a small bandage at his hairline, maintained his stoic presence, offering small comforts where he could. Jim’s mind cycled between anger and guilt as he replayed the events of the last few hours. When he set out to reveal Marcus’s plans, he had never expected innocents to suffer. Now Spock, his _husband,_ was injured and forced to flee his beloved home. It made Jim sick.

“Further rumination on the events of this evening will solve nothing,” Spock finally said to Jim, releasing his hand after a squeeze.

“Bullshit,” Jim answered. He was angry and didn’t need another Vulcan shutting him down. 

Spock’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he did not respond.

Taking a long breath, Jim looked at Spock and gave a wan smile. “I’m being impossible, I know. It’s a human thing, Spock. We don’t let things go, even when we should.”

Spock nodded. “I am familiar with this concept. Many experiences in my life attempt to take over my thoughts. At times they succeed, but meditation has helped. We must live in this moment. I am grateful that we are now safe. As we speak, a plan is in motion.”

“Yeah, a Vulcan plan. And I’m shut out. If I’d been more involved maybe this could have been prevented. Maybe I should be on Earth facing trial. At least you’d be safe.” Jim didn’t believe the words he said, but they captured his dark mood nicely.

“That is illogical.”

Jim snorted. “No shit.” He rubbed his face hard and pressed himself back into the smooth seat.

Spock reached out again to take his hand, rubbing his thumb slowly against his palm. “For Vulcans, this is highly inappropriate, but for you, I hope comforting.”

With a twinge of unexpected arousal, Jim grinned. “Maybe a little of both.” 

Spock’s mouth quirked at the corners. “I am gratified. We will be arriving at my father’s home in three minutes. At that time, we can retreat to the guest suite and discuss how to proceed over the next few days. I trust this matter will be resolved more quickly than you expect.”

“How so?” Jim asked, stilling Spock’s fingers on his palm.

“Unlike humans, Vulcans are legally permitted to perform telepathic scans of those suspected of criminal behavior. By morning, we expect the entire network of isolationists to be revealed. Then it will be only a matter of time until the guilty Vulcans are apprehended.”

“Really? Wow. I didn’t think of that.” Jim let the implications roll through his mind.

“My meld with the assailant revealed many human faces I do not recognize. I have shared that information with my father and he will share it once again with Halek, the lead investigator into the Marcus plot. Vulcans, as you can imagine, are persistent, and I feel quite confident that our lives are no longer in danger.”

Jim shook his head. “I hear you, but until Marcus is behind bars, I won’t believe we’re safe.”

“I understand, Jim. I hope it will be soon.”

Suddenly tired, Jim sighed once more. “Yeah, me, too.”

*~*

Late into the night, Jim, Sarek, and Spock discussed the upcoming investigation into both the break-in and the extended plot with Admiral Marcus.

“Why isn’t Starfleet taking action against him?” Jim asked. He was real tired of that asshole getting a pass.

Sarek pursed his lips. “Our theory suggests he is being protected by the Federation President who has ties to both Orion and Romulan interests.”

“Figures. That bastard has his fingers in every pie.” Jim grumbled, raking a hand through his hair. President Forsythe was widely accused of corruption, but as of yet, no proof had been found.

“The information revealed in your documents has proved to be more valuable than we expected, Jim. It has revealed both an effort to establish relations with Romulus and actions to facilitate the trafficking of vulnerable species in the Alpha quadrant.”

Jim blew out a breath. “Damn. I had no idea.”

Spock motioned to Jim and spoke in a voice inflected with pride. “Indeed. Many lives are indebted to you, Jim. In time, you will be lauded as a hero.” 

With a shake of his head, Jim pushed back in the chair. “This is a lot to take in and I am exhausted. It’s what? Three a.m.? I need sleep.”

Spock set down his tea and stood. “Come, Jim. I will show you to our room.”

“Okay. Good night, Sarek,” Jim said. 

“Good night, _sa-fu_.” 

Jim gave an awkward smile, not quite sure what that meant.

“ _Sa-fu_ means ‘son,’” Spock filled in for him as he escorted him out of Sarek’s study.

“Ah. Okay.” Jim chuckled. 

Spock led him through a cavernous hallway and into a smaller, newer portion of the house. He opened the door to reveal a large bedroom with a private veranda and a desk. 

“Nice,” Jim said. “Is this your old room?”

“Negative,” Spock answered, drawing the heavy curtains closed. “It is a guest room suitable for Terrans.”

“Oh, why’s that?” 

“A water-based shower and books and magazines written in Standard. It also contains a small refrigerator with drinks often preferred by Terrans.”

“Nice.” Jim said, then yawned wide. “I’m just going to crash. Are you tired? Are you coming to bed?” Jim peeled off his shirt and noticed that Spock looked away, his ear tinging green.

Jim stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest, taking in his face. Spock submitted to his gaze and he was pleased to know he wasn’t shying away. He wasn’t sure what that had been after he’d been attacked, but it seemed to have passed. 

Smiling, he whispered, “I’m sorry we got interrupted earlier. I was looking forward to, well…spending more time with you.” He kissed Spock firmly on the mouth, letting his touch linger, and leaned back. He wanted so much more, but his legs were about to give out on him.

Spock stroked Jim’s cheek, eyes filled with warmth.“I am regretful, as well, but I trust we will have time.” 

Jim grinned and stepped back, pointing playfully. “I’m counting on it.” He slid into the sheets and fell quickly asleep.

~*~

_Amanda closed all of the curtains in her home, drawing them tight to block out the strong afternoon sun. Even the coolness of the natural rockface would submit to the intense heat of the Vulcan sun and the cloudless dry season._

_She had tended her plants one last time and finished cataloging all of her recent work. She had lost several of her hybrid and earth-native plants the week before, unable to manage the needs in the unrelenting climate. While it was true she could have moved them, she prided herself on her strict guidelines — the plants must survive the raw Vulcan environment, with only a small amount of nutrients at vulnerable stages of re-potting._

_Amanda had lingered in the house for another long day after Spock departed for Dva-kel. She lay quietly in her room, sensing his mental state through the bond, feeling it thinning as he traveled farther and farther away. Vulcans, she knew, could sense each other’s bonds across star systems, but she could not. Even when fully bonded to Sarek, she had difficulty sensing him when he traveled to Earth. The familial bonds, while strong in childhood, naturally waned as adolescents became adults and prepared to bond with mates._

_Today, however, she sensed only the faintest awareness of Spock. She knew he would be going immediately underground, and suspected by evening, she would sense him no longer. In some ways it filled her with peace, knowing he would not sense her death. In time, he would come to understand that this had been her only choice._

_With a sense of lightness, she prepared the bitter drink, swirling the dark foaming liquid as she settled into a sense of purpose. She carried the glass to her bedroom and set it on the nightstand. In a last-minute change, she opened the curtains and let the sun flow into the room. She had loved this view most of all and thought it a fitting final vision._

_Yes, she thought, as she settled back on the pillows and smoothed her robe. This was perfect._


	4. Chapter 4

It only took a day for Sarek to inform Jim and Spock that the network had been discovered. Four other Vulcans, along with two Romulans who had been disguised as Vulcans, were apprehended. A combination of telepathic scans and some good detective work had yielded surprisingly quick results. 

Jim smiled as he gathered his things, preparing to go back to Spock’s house. Their time at Sarek’s had been filled with periods of intense activity followed by hours of nothing to do. Jim and Spock used that time, however, to continue getting to know each other. Jim’s most pressing questions had not yet been answered, but he had a growing faith that they would be when Spock was ready. They had kissed a few more times, but Jim sensed Spock’s discomfort at staying in his father’s home and did not press the issue. He knew Spock was willing and that was all that mattered.

“So, what about Marcus?” Jim asked, as he threw his last item into the bag.

“My father indicates that increased pressure from both Vulcan and Andoria will yield results shortly. Terran politics is unpredictable, but that appears to be the consensus.”

“Right. Well, I’ll relax when he’s in the brig. Until then, I’m gonna to sleep with one eye open.” Jim zipped up the bag and followed Spock to the hover car awaiting them.

Jim slid across the seat and dragged his bag with him. Spock followed and reached out to take Jim’s hand. Jim thought maybe he could sense Spock’s eagerness through their bond, but he might have just been projecting. He really had no idea how bonds worked. 

“I’m glad your father is on our side, Spock. He’s, like, totally intimidating and scary.”

“Indeed. He is well respected among Vulcans in all circles. As a diplomat, he has made very few enemies.”

“Except for the Romulans,” Jim chuckled.

Spock nodded and stared out the window for a while, appearing pensive. Then he spoke, “When we return, I’d like to tell you about my mother.”

Jim blinked, surprised, and then smiled. “I’d love to hear it. I guess we both have some stories to tell, don’t we?” Jim had alluded to Frank and the mother he had not seen in a decade.

“Yes, we do. I am gratified you are here with me.” Spock turned his face, showing no reservations, and gazed at Jim with loving eyes. He seemed more at ease than Jim had ever seen him.

“Me, too, Spock.”

As they rounded the next corner, Jim suddenly felt weightless, and gasped as the car began to spin. “Fuck! What’s happening?” He gripped the arm rest and clutched Spock’s hand. 

“Hold on,” Spock shouted as the car slammed into a wall of rock, yanking them apart with the force of it. The window next to Spock’s head shattered, sending a shower of broken glass over both of them.

“Spock!” Jim yelled, and reached out for him again. His fingers just gained purchase on Spock’s sleeve when Jim’s door swung open and he was yanked from the vehicle. 

“Get the fuck off me,” he shouted. He struggled against unyielding arms and called out Spock’s name over and over again. His husband was unmoving, hanging from the seatbelt with green blood on his face. 

“No, you bastards. Let me go!”

Jim continued to struggle, fighting and kicking as he was dragged into the back of a dark van. “You motherfuckers! He’s hurt.” Jim railed against them, fighting for all he was worth until he was bodyslammed hard against the van’s interior. His head spun as he gasped for breath. A second later, he felt the hissing sting of a hypospray and then nothing more.

~*~

With a mouthful of fabric, Jim came awake. He grunted and tried to move. He couldn’t see, but as he struggled, felt his arms and legs secured to his chair. He made noises through the gag and tried to move enough to knock the chair over. It didn’t budge.

“He’s awake,” a voice said. “Get the Admiral.”

He heard the shuffle of boots and several clangs that sounded like doors opening and closing. It was just a matter of time before he’d be face to face with the man who was ruining his life.

Rage pooled slowly in Jim’s stomach as he breathed long and even through his nose and forced his body to relax. Struggling would get him nowhere and he wanted to save all of his energy for the moment when he could kill that bastard where he sat.

Eventually, maybe twenty minutes or so later, the door clanged again and a chair scraped across the chair. “Take off the blindfold.” It was the unmistakable bass of the admiral’s voice. “The gag, too. I want to hear this punk tell me why he thought it was a good idea to steal from Starfleet.”

The gag was removed first and Jim immediately croaked, “Bastard.” The blindfold came off a second later.

Marcus just laughed and looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Curse all you want, son. That’s not gonna help you.”

“Fuck you,” Jim said. 

“There you go. Feel better?” 

Jim glowered and watched Marcus spin a chair and sit with his arms folded across the high back. “You nearly got away, Kirk. Those Vulcans, though, they’re not as tightly knit as they claim to be. You’d be surprised how many were willing to listen when I offered the right incentive.”

“You mean the right lie…”

“Maybe so, but what’s no lie is that they hate humans. Hate most other species, for that matter. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”

“Maybe some do, but not all. Or maybe they just hate you and the assholes that follow you.”

“Could be, Kirk. Could be. But what really matters is you in that chair, now isn’t it? I just wanted to see you, eyeball to eyeball, to let you know how screwed you are. Consider it a personal touch.”

Marcus stood and smirked down at Jim. “For what it’s worth, congratulations on your bonding, by the way. Never could understand why a human would want to marry one of those walking computers, but to each his own, I guess.”

The admiral turned towards the door. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Kirk.”

The guard opened the door with a clang as Jim stared in wordless rage at the Admiral’s retreating back. 

~*~

Wiping crust from his eyes, Jim struggled awake in the suddenly bright light. 

“Get up, Kirk. You’re moving out.” A guard with thick arms jabbed him in the side and Jim grunted.

He sat slowly, doing inventory on his body, wondering how long he’d been asleep. With no windows, he had only his hunger and the stiffness of his limbs to give him clues. He suspected the guard’s rotations and meal deliveries were unpredictable purposely to keep detainees disoriented. And it worked.

“Where am I going?” he croaked through dry lips. He got water only twice a day and couldn’t really figure out why he was still alive. 

“You’ll find out soon enough. Up and out, let’s go.” The guard nudged him again with his boot. 

“All right. Gimme a sec.” Jim stood finally on unsteady legs. This level of dehydration and hunger told him it had been at least three or four days since he’d arrived. If he was honest with himself, it was longer than he would have ever expected to stay alive. 

The guard shackled him with heavy chains connecting his legs and arms. He didn’t really know why, since he could barely lift them. 

The guard yanked him along through several doorways and short halls until they deposited him in another room with several other prisoners. Most looked worse off than he did with gaunt eyes and pale skin. Weeks without food, he imagined. 

The guards removed his shackles and shoved him down on a wooden bench.

“You’re all shipping out this afternoon. Take a good look at Earth on your way out, kids, because it’s the last you’re gonna see of it.”

Jim’s breath caught when those words finally registered and he blinked in surprise. They were being sold, not killed. He nearly grinned, but held himself in check. Selling meant opportunities for food and water, and moreover, it meant opportunities to escape. _This,_ he thought with anticipation, _was something he could work with._

His hopeless mood lightened, he sat back against the wall and mentally prepared to see his husband once more.

~*~

It took several days and three transports later, but Jim had finally arrived on Venta IV. Their slave market was the worst kept secret in the Alpha quadrant, but for the most part, they stayed under the Federation’s radar. It was no surprise Marcus had connections here. This was a favorite shopping place for all manner of unsavory types who wanted slaves for every imaginable task. 

A few hours after arrival, an Orion in a red top-knot and a bright blue suit passed along the narrow corridor, peering into cages. Everyone once in a while, he’d clang on a cage and the guard behind him would drag the slave out for inspection. They’d all been bathed and fed and this, he assumed, was a buyer.

Jim held his breath and tucked himself into the corner of his cage. He did not want to be purchased by an Orion. They were too ill-tempered and treated slaves worse than most. Jim pretended to be asleep when the green alien passed and he didn’t pause. As Jim watched the chosen slaves walking along behind him, he realized the alien was looking for short, thick worker-types, probably for manual labor. One even had scales which would work well in a mining setting. A human, with fragile skin and organs, was better suited to sexual servitude and household work. 

Jim passed his time thinking of Spock and trying to telepathically communicate with him. He was certain that none of it was going through, but he did it anyway. He told Spock mental stories about his childhood, his brother, and what it had been like growing up the son of a famous dead guy. He told bad jokes and dirty stories, all the while imagining Spock’s raised brow and humorous disapproval. It was in those moments of desperation, he realized he was falling in love with his husband, and hoped fervently somehow he could get back to Spock. His heart told him yes, but as the hours and days dragged on, he began to worry that whoever was searching for him might have lost his trail. 

Deep into the late hours of the second week (he thought) of his imprisonment, the rattling of cages began again. Jim startled awake and listened to the chatter. The being spoke a dark, guttural language and as it drew closer, Jim realized it was Romulan. _Fuck._

Since it was night, the guards kept the main lights off and shone a flashlight inside to show each slave. When they came to Jim’s cage, he blinked up at them, trying to shield his eyes against the sudden brightness.

“ _Hevam!_ ” the Romulan barked. “ _Arhem ssraei hevam._ ”

The guard scrambled to unlock the gate and yanked Jim out. The Romulan studied him for long moment, then nodded and turned away. 

“ _Hhæmn th’ann,_ ” the Romulan said over his shoulder, then he strode past the rest of the cages. Jim, assuming he’d just been sold, was handcuffed and dragged along behind him. 

~*~

The next hours passed in a blur. He followed his Romulan buyer from display room to display room, full of cage upon cage of trapped beings. From the smallest of Nefrann, suited for work in the tiny spaces below the decks of space-faring vessels to the freshwater beings whose translated name was A-kan-ana-pi. These beings possessed beautiful tails and fins, which flowed in dramatic patterns when aroused or afraid. Routinely, electric shocks were pressed into the water to startle the beings into expanding their beautiful colors for the amusement of others. Jim gagged as he imagined the years of servitude these beautiful beings must endure. 

At least a dozen times, the Romulan examined other slaves and eventually gathered six more, each dragged behind him by guards who had cuffed and now prodded them along. Moment by moment, his anger grew and accompanying thoughts of escape were elaborate plans of rescue. This place, horrifying and overwhelming in its scope, could not continue…

Futile as these thoughts might be, they drove Jim to stay alert, take in all the clues he could about his new owner that might eventually help him escape. 

As dawn approached, streaming through the caged windows high above, the Romulan barked orders at the marketeers and strode to a wide desk where he seemed to make his final purchases. He glanced back at the group of them, stonefaced, then snorted at something the vendor said. He handed over a credit chip and with a terse nod, the transaction was over. Jim and the others were officially his. 

Jim watched as the Romulan pulled out his communicator and barked more orders into it. A few minutes later, a wide, open-bed truck backed into one of the loading docks. Chains and shackles rattled as the truck eased into place. Prodded once more by the guards, Jim and his fellow slaves shuffled onto the truck one-by-one until their cuffs had been systematically and carefully re-attached to the truck. Jim bided his time, watching, waiting until they were off planet to even consider a move. Desperately, he needed to get out of this hell hole.

The truck lumbered down a long ramp and through a series of dimly lit subterranean caves until Jim began to see the first rays of daylight. He watched the scenery go by and took in the tired faces of his companions. Most were hunched over, swaying with the motion of the truck as their various styles of hair flopped or dragged against their shoulders. He cataloged two Orions and at least one small Vulcan woman. He had not spoken to her, but stayed attentive and watchful. None of them spoke, having learned long ago talking meant stunning and, damn, if that didn’t fucking hurt. Even Jim, with his gift of gab, turned it all inward instead, chattering away at Spock in his mind. 

When the truck finally came to a stop, Jim and the others were unchained and directed onto a chunky Romulan transport. Each slave was prodded into a box with airholes, and Jim convulsively swallowed, suddenly afraid. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but he had no idea how long he’d be trapped inside there. He took a long, deep breath and settled his nerves as best he could. He focused on freedom and Spock and the way the winds whipped up dirt devils in the plains below the house. His imagination and determination had taken him this far…he could endure more. And he would. 

~*~

At several regular intervals, food and water were delivered to his box. He ate and drank hungrily, relieving himself through a hole in the bottom of the cage. It stank, but at least once a day, he felt the pull of a vacuum disposal system and the air would become clean again.

He had no idea how long they traveled, but eventually, he felt the ship settle down roughly. His heart raced, wondering if this would finally be the time to act. He felt stronger, but knew his time in captivity had weakened him. He watched through the airholes as his fellow captives were freed. One by one, they trudged past him until the guards finally came to his cage and swung it open. Bright light filled the box and he blinked, lowering his face to stare at the floor as he crawled out. Terrible pain shot through his back as he tried to stand. He exhaled loudly, but did not cry out. Gingerly, he was able to rise up and blinked towards the opening of the transport. He shielded his eyes and walked slowly, following the guard until he was in the open, dry air. It felt vaguely like Vulcan, which he expected might be the case since Romulans and Vulcans were so closely related. 

Stumbling a little down the ramp, it took Jim a few minutes to gain his bearings as he entered a wide hangar, again much like what he had seen at the Vulcan spaceport. He was escorted alone towards a metal door along the outer wall. No one spoke and he saw the other slaves directed towards various other doors. He caught the Vulcan’s eye and she raised a brow at him, a weird expression on her sharp-featured face. 

Jim was hustled through the door and down a short hall. He was directed into a small room with a chair and a table and told to sit. On the wall was a clock with Vulcan-like script. He had no idea how to read it. After a moment, the door swung open and Jim gaped, his entire body frozen with shock.

“Sarek? Oh my god, Sarek! Where am I? Where’s Spock? Holy shit, I can’t believe you found me!” Jim rushed towards the stoic Vulcan and embraced him, squeezing him as hard as he could before he remembered himself and jerked backwards. “Sorry. Oh, man. Sorry about that.” Jim said, caught between laughing and crying as he reached out to straighten Sarek’s robe.

“Sa-fu, I am gratified to see you once more. You are on Vulcan, in a hangar south of Shi’Kahr. Spock is at his home. We were unable to get to you until Marcus released you to the slavers. Once that occurred, it was only a matter of time before we would purchase you. I apologize for the abysmal conditions of your travel. It was necessary for our and your protection if we were stopped by another Romulan vessel.”

Jim just stared at Sarek with a wide grin before he started asking questions again. “So, Spock’s okay? He got hurt — what happened?”

“Spock has recovered fully. I will take you to him shortly. First, I presume you would like to shower and change your clothing?” Sarek said with a slightly wrinkled nose. Jim was sure he stank to high heaven.

“God, yes. Please! And food. I am absolutely starving.” He was so overjoyed he nearly hugged Sarek again. It was really only the Vulcan’s exit from the room that prevented it.

“Come, Jim. I will show you to the showers.” 

“Right behind you, dad.” He laughed brightly and followed.

~*~

Jim’s leg bounced nervously through the entire hover car ride to Spock’s. Several times he had asked questions about Spock, but Sarek deflected him, providing details instead about Marcus’s recent arrest and the calls for the Terran President’s resignation. 

Sarek also revealed the expanded plot by another Vulcan faction who shared the isolationists interests, but worked along quieter channels. Sarek nearly frowned as he spoke of their betrayal to the oaths they had taken as part of the V’Kor. 

“One High Council member has been implicated and under threat of an unusually invasive telepathic scan, agreed to provide details on a plan nine years in the making. The Vulcan need for independence and isolation runs deep in our culture. It has been only after the revelation of ties to Romulus and Orion the High Council has begun to relent its stance on outworlders.”

Jim listened intently as Sarek spoke, amazed at the unraveling of such a deep network of betrayal. 

“Once again, Jim, you are the catalyst for this immense change, and we, as Vulcans, will forever be in your debt.”

“I, uh…” Jim blushed, not sure what to say. He’d never intended to do anything so immense. “Thank you, I guess. I had no idea.”

“No, but your human intuition led you, did it not? A trait I have come to appreciate more and more over the years.”

“Yeah. I’ve lived by my gut for a long time. It’s gotten me into a lot of trouble, but I’m not dead yet.” Jim grinned and squeaked as the car came to a halt outside Spock’s home. “Oh my god, I am so happy to be home again. Sarek, thank you. I have no idea what that must have cost, but I will repay you. I promise.” Jim was blabbering now, but that’s what he did when he was overwhelmed. Just ask Bones.

Sarek emerged when Jim did and followed him into the house. 

The lights in the great room were lit when Jim entered and Spock emerged from the hallway at the sound of the door opening. 

“Spock!” Jim cried, rushing towards him. “Oh god, I missed you!” He hugged him as tightly as he could, clinging to his husband and saying unintelligible things until he realized Spock was not hugging him back.

“Spock?” He asked, leaning back to search his face. He blinked, confused. “What happened to your face? Where are the scars?” Jim stared at him and then to Sarek who had moved to stand near them. 

“Jim, I think it best if we sit.” Sarek motioned to one of the red settees.

“What’s going on? Spock?” Jim felt tears stinging his eyes. “Did something happen?” He kept his eyes on Spock’s blank face, panic settling in his heart. 

“Jim, Spock has requested dissolution of your marriage bond,” Sarek said evenly.

“Dissolution?” Jim paused, making sure he was interpreting it correctly. “You mean end it? Divorce?” Jim gaped at Spock. “But why? Spock?” Jim’s voice shook as he felt the weight of Sarek’s words. “I don’t understand.”

Spock cleared his throat and looked at Jim. His left eye was no longer partially covered by thick scarred skin and the lacework pattern on half of his face had faded considerably. He spoke with free movement of his mouth. “Five years ago, after my graduation from the Vulcan Science Academy, I left Shi’Kahr to begin a research project at the Dva-kel caves on the other side of Vulcan. Shortly after I left, my mother, in her grief, ingested a poison that slowed her heart, one designed to lead to her death. Despite my physical distance from her, I felt her katra fading and attempted to contact her but failed. I attempted to contact my father, who was on Terra, but also failed. In a panic, I hired a shuttle to bring me back to Shi’Kahr, despite the threat of a massive storm blocking our path. One hour into my journey, the shuttle crashed and I was badly burned. By the time I regained consciousness, my mother had died.”

“Oh, my god, Spock.” Jim covered his mouth. “I’m so sorry.” Jim looked at Sarek who remained stonefaced. 

“It is for this reason, for the very certain possibility you will die before me, I must decline this bond. And as it has not yet been fully consummated, the severing should cause minimal distress to each of us.” Spock stood and raised his hand in the _ta’al_. “I thank you for our brief time together and I wish you long life.” And as Jim stared, Spock turned his back and left him sitting there.

Stunned, Jim just gazed blankly at the now empty hallway. “Sarek?” Jim choked out. “What the fuck happened to Spock? Why is he doing this?” Jim turned to the elder Vulcan with tears in his eyes. “He can’t do this, can he?”

Sarek stared back at Jim, his face pale. “Jim, I am afraid Spock has been under a terrible assumption about his mother’s death I did not comprehend.” 

Sarek swallowed hard and Jim watched with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Amanda did not end her life due to Spock’s departure. She loved him deeply. It was my actions that caused Amanda’s distress. I was the cause of her death.”

“You what? What happened, Sarek, and why is Spock’s face better? What the fuck is going on?” Jim felt like he was near the breaking point. Nothing could be crueler than this. In a spike of anger, Jim leapt up from the settee and glared at Sarek. “This is bullshit, Sarek. You’ve got to fix this!”

Calmly, Sarek stood as well, but Jim could see his hands shaking. “Yes, Jim, you are correct. I must speak to Spock. Please wait here.” 

~*~

The next fourteen minutes were interminable. Jim paced and paced and felt like a string ready to snap. His bondmate, the idiot he had fallen in love with, had clearly lost his mind. 

“Goddamn all these Vulcans and Romulans and Orions. And fuck Starfleet, too,” Jim raged to himself. He was surely going mad, pacing like a caged animal (which he had been!) and talking to himself. 

When the office door finally opened, Sarek emerged. “Spock requests time to meditate and then wishes to see you.”

“Meditate? Now? For how long?” Jim spat, putting his fists on his hips. He’d had just about enough of this family.

“I encourage you to allow this, Jim. As hard as it is for you, I am certain Spock loves you, but has been grievously misled by his guilt and my silence. I will sit with you if you like, to wait for him.” Sarek glanced at the settee.

After a moment’s thought, Jim shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I can wait.” He looked up at Sarek. “How long do I have to wait?” 

“I recommend no less than thirty minutes. What I have told Spock has shocked him and meditation will allow him to process that shock and to realize his misconception. I have faith all will be as it was.”

“Half an hour, huh? Fine. Jesus Christ. Vulcans are real pieces of work.” Jim didn’t care if he offended Sarek. He was over all of them.

“I will depart then, Jim. I offer my apologies for my part in this event. I trust Spock will help you understand. Once you have spoken, please contact me with any further questions. I would be happy to speak with you.” Sarek raised the _ta’al_. “Live long and prosper.” With a swish of his robes, he turned and left Jim alone.

~*~

The sound of Spock’s door opening startled Jim out of a restless sleep. He’d curled up on the settee when he could no longer maintain enough anger to keep him awake. 

“Jim,” Spock said, approaching him. His face was pale.

“Yeah, you okay?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “How long has it been?”

“I have been meditating for eighty-one minutes. I apologize for the length of my absence. I had much to process.”

“Okay. What’s going on?” Jim sat up and crossed his legs under him. He blinked hard and focused on Spock’s face as he stood stiffly in front of him.

“I was wrong to request dissolution of our bond. I hurt you deeply and I am truly regretful.” Spock stared briefly at Jim, then looked at the floor. 

“Just explain it to me, would you? I was thinking about you, Spock. You were the only thing keeping me going and then I came home to this? Your rejection was worse than all of it. I was a fucking slave, Spock. Do you have any idea what could have happened to me?” Jim’s anger boiled hot once more.

“It was my anguish which led me to the decision, Jim. I was injured in the accident and when I awoke and found you gone, it was as if my mother’s death had just occurred. My grief overtook me and I closed myself off from the world. I had failed once again to protect someone I loved. It was too much for me to bear. After many days grieving, I could no longer look at my reflection and requested the doctors to begin the process of removing my scars. Now, I am uncertain if I will continue.”

Jim heard only one phrase and his heart pinched. “You love me?” he asked, oblivious to the anger he’d had a second ago.

Spock walked toward him and knelt on the floor. To Jim’s amazement, he had tears in his eyes. “Beyond reason and logic,” he answered. “If you will have me, I offer myself to you again, fully and without reservation. I cherish you above all others.” Spock reached for Jim’s hands and clasped them tightly. “Please, Jim. Please forgive me.”

“Spock…” Jim was a whirl of conflicting emotion. Anger and sadness and betrayal sought purchase in his mind. Above all else, though, Spock’s eyes, filled with the most unlikely tears, swayed him.

“I love you, too, Spock. I want to be with you. I don’t even know why anymore, I just have to. Everything that happened just makes me more sure of it. All of my life, I wanted somewhere to be safe, with someone who loved me the most. I never had that, Spock. I lived in the shadow of a great man, his memory more loved than my actual person. I could never be enough, Spock. But with you, I am everything. I want our life together. I want you.”

Jim released Spock’s hands and pulled him close, kissing him softly on the mouth and then more deeply, as if he could convey his very soul to the one he loved.

After a long, sensuous moment, Spock pulled back, breathless, his lips shining green from kissing. “I feel your regard, Jim. Your katra, your soul, is indeed intertwining with mine. What remains is only our physical bonding and then our joining will be complete and unbreakable.”

“Complete and unbreakable, huh?” Jim asked, rising from the settee to grasp Spock’s fingers tightly in his. 

“I wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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